


Remember Me?

by Camelabrakedabra



Series: Unfavourable Love [8]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelabrakedabra/pseuds/Camelabrakedabra
Summary: Do you remember me?Of course you do. I was the first man you truly wanted. Perhaps I still have your heart now. After all, it's hard to forget your first kiss, your first time and, dare I say, your first love.But we were never meant to be together. Imagine what would have happened if your parents found out that you were romancing a man like me. It would have been the end of us both.





	1. Chapter 1

Do you remember the first time we met?

I'm sure you do. It's something that was quite significant in your life, and it was on a significant day, too. It's something that you can't forget that easily, even if you try to push all of the memories of me out of your head. Although, I don't think you would do that either. I think you love me too much for that.

If you don't remember, I'm disappointed. But I'll accept it because I'm about to tell you everything I remember from our time together. I don't want you to ever forget me. That would hurt too much. If I saw you in the street after this, I would hope that I could see a glimmer of recognition in your eyes. You don't have to say a word to me - I'm sure your job doesn't permit it, and your family would be humiliated - but I need you to remember how we were together. It's an important part of our lives, I think. It's something that shaped you as a King and me as a man.

And so I'll begin.

It was the day that your father announced that he was planning on stepping down and giving you the throne. He had problems with his health and he didn't want you to have to step up in a time of grief - if he was in the hospital or had suddenly passed away - so it was your turn to be King. There were a few things that you needed first, though, as far as they were concerned. Thankfully for everyone, your parents weren't prepared to throw the role at you and hope that you could figure it out on your own. You were going to have extensive training and the people of our kingdom were going to help your father to determine what you really needed to know. The things that really mattered to everyone, the things that were absolutely necessary for a good leader. They were happy to be in the town square to discuss that, and they were already prepared to put their ideas into the bucket at the front of the palace when the community meeting had finished.

The second thing was that you were going to have to learn other skills; things that your parents thought would turn you into a fine gentleman. Your parents wanted the support of the community as you took up new hobbies, like calligraphy and tea-making and horse riding. Of course, all of the professionals in this area were happy to help you. They all jumped at the chance to help twenty-three-year-old Prince Kim to take up the traditional hobbies that he'd never tried before. Until that point, your mother had insisted on doing things that you liked, such as archery and swimming, and she wasn't prepared to force interests onto you. They were okay, of course, but they weren't going to win the hearts of the people like taking up traditional hobbies would do. If you were to do this, people were certainly going to love you more. And they already did, as soon as your father announced it.

Finally, you were going to have to take a wife. You needed to be married to take the throne. It was based on a traditional rule that was still in place, simply because it was convenient. In the past, it was thought that a man couldn't rule without a wife to be his common sense filter, and a woman couldn't rule without a strong-headed man to make her feel more confident in her decisions and abilities. In modern times, however, it was because it was much harder to date as a King or Queen than it was to date as a Prince or Princess. You have more responsibilities when you have more power, and you have to attend hundreds of formal and professional events each year. You have work to do to keep peace in the community, you have to create and pass laws, and you have to spend time getting to know the people of the kingdom. Where does marriage fit into that? It would be a very tight fit and it would suggest that you were neglecting some of your responsibilities.

I was at the back of the crowd but I still saw your face dropping when you heard that. You tried to hide it as much as possible, since you didn't want people to think that you were unenthusiastic about your father's proposal that you find a wife, but it was obvious. You didn't want to find someone and get married. You probably couldn't think of anything worse than to do that. So you stood there, looking slightly defeated as you tried to keep that smile plastered on your face, and you waited until your father suggested that you walk through the crowd and see if you could find some pretty girls to come to a ball that you were going to hold at the palace a few weeks from then.

The crowd parted in the middle to allow you to walk through unharmed, and then families began to push their daughters forward so that you would be able to see them better. And you waited until you couldn't see any more pushing, just so that no one felt upset by the fact that their daughter had missed out on the opportunity to court you. You walked through that central gap and made a scene, just like any great King would do. You made it seem as if it was the toughest decision in the world; as if all of them were so beautiful that you couldn't decide who you wanted to marry. And then you asked the girls if anyone had boyfriends. None of them raised their hands, even though you knew that some of them did, and that resulted in some laughs from the rest of the crowd. Remember, it was shown on that big screen at the front of the community square, and everyone could see the embarrassment on the faces of the girls who were definitely already in relationships.

A few eventually piped up to say that they had boyfriends. You softly told them that whilst they were beautiful, they owed it to their boyfriends to avoid leaving him for another man. It was just respectful, and you actually thought more of them for staying with the boys who had given them great things in life so far. That pleased most of the crowd, even though the girls' parents didn't seem too happy that their daughters had missed out on such an opportunity. But you went a step further and asked who was under the age of nineteen, just to cut it down that bit further. You wouldn't be able to lead when you were a child, you told them, so you didn't want to pile on the extra pressure for them either. They would have to help you out in the palace and they would be expected to have a child with you after a year of marriage, so it was only fair that you let the younger girls continue with their education instead. Again, a few more sad parents, but everyone generally agreed with your morals.

There were still around thirty girls who were single and over nineteen, who were then called forward and given invitations to the ball. You didn't go through them and ask individuals like you were supposed to do but rather, made sure that everyone who was eligible had their chance. After all, how were you supposed to find a wife if you were to limit yourself and the women around you? It was only fair.

My respect for you rose when I saw that. It's hard to explain it. I'm not fond of this system where one family rules the whole kingdom for centuries, but you do have a very good family. I think if you told them that you were gay - as a lot of your generation has guessed for years - they would understand. But it wasn't something that you were going to put your family through. You were going to stop the rumours and conspiracies by taking a wife and having children with her, and you were going to make a wonderful King when you had the chance.

Now, I can't say that this experience changed my day that much. To say that would be a huge lie. As soon as the crowds cleared, I got back to what I usually do. I don't need to tell you about that. It's something that I'm sure you remember. It's something that you can't really forget, isn't it? As much as we got to know each other over the weeks that followed that day, it was still a looming problem, wasn't it? You can pretend that you were fine with it as much as you want, but we both know that it caused a little bit of tension sometimes. I still appreciate how good you were about that when you had the power to remove me from the community, even though I didn't dare to tell you that when we were still speaking to each other. I'll always remember that.

But enough of that for now. Back to the story.

It was a quiet day for me after that. Everyone feels strangely connected after something like that. When the community is forced to come together and all of the shops and workplaces are closed for a meeting with the King and his family, it's a big deal and it makes everyone feel as if they're a part of something. They have a say in what happens. They have a say in the experiences of their Prince. They can decide how you live your life and what hobbies you take and the woman you marry. But that means that when you don't have any kin to communicate that with, you're on your own. You suddenly become an outsider, since everyone is chatting cheerfully about their warm feelings towards the royal family. So I went to a bar, and that was where I spent the whole day. I sat there, drank a bit, and thought about the whole experience of being in that community square, watching how you reacted to everything.

Clearly, you weren't expecting any of it. Your parents had just announced that you were going to accompany them during the speech, and you expected that perhaps it was an announcement that you would be out of the kingdom or something. It's rarely anything big, even if you are asked to join them for that sort of speech. So I suppose that it came as a huge surprise for you and shot you through emotions pretty quickly. First excitement when you realised that you would be taking the throne. Then fear, surprise, and perhaps the feeling that you were being overwhelmed. Then your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach when you realised that you had to marry someone soon and you didn't have enough time to sort it how you would want to sort it, if you know what I mean. Either finding a woman who you liked a lot so that you would be able to look past the fact that she was a woman, or finally telling your parents that you were attracted to men.

I may not have really wanted to think about you and your new chapter in life, but it's inevitable when something big happens to someone in a position of power. It was a superficial train of thought, but it remained for a while as I tried to figure out what I was going to do with my day. By the time I'd finished considering it, it was coming up to six o'clock. My work usually began at around seven or eight o'clock when people finished work and started pouring into bars. A drink too many and I'd be in business. Or perhaps someone would have had a stressful day at work and called me so that I would be able to bring them to a place like this. So I waited and waited, keeping my eyes on the door for some of the regular customers who came in on Friday evenings. I bought another beer and sipped on it as I continued to wait, and then eventually the place was alive with people.

And so it was time to charm. The bar's owner was fine with me doing that, if you remember me telling you. I bought beer and brought in the customers who wanted to see me but wanted to make it subtle. They would have a few drinks and would then make it seem as if it was just incidental that they wanted to have a drink with me. Their wives and kids didn't have to know that they were chatting with another man in the way that they would talk to a lover. It was a secret environment where they could let all of their feelings out. A safe place, if you will. And no other customer would tell on them either. A lot of them had been there before. A lot of them knew me personally.

But, of course, they had to approach me first. I would simply invite them over with my eyes and my empty booth. Bedroom eyes and a lick of the lips. A slow, long sip of my drink, with the foam glazing my lower lip in a way that would capture interest. I wasn't about to make a scene by propositioning a man at the bar, as much as I knew that they wanted to be approached. Some of them arrived with friends every so often and it was humiliating for them to be seen with someone like me. Their friends would tease them at work the following day, and I would get an earful about it next time I saw them. So I continued to sip on my beer and kept looking out for people who wanted to come over but were perhaps too shy.

That's where you come in, remember?

I saw a shadow looming over me and looked up, only to see you there. "Are you on your own?" you asked, your voice sounding concerned. It was quite low and you were dressed in commoner's clothes to obscure who you were, but I could tell right away. I can't explain to you how I knew it was you, but I could really just tell. So I shuffled to the side to allow you to sit, figuring that it was rude not to do that for a Prince, and then you sat down.  
"I'm not sure of your intentions, Prince," I told you in as quiet a voice as I could manage, "But I think it's a mistake that you're sitting next to me like this. You don't understand my position in this community, and if people were to realise that it was you sitting next to me, you would face backlash." But you shrugged. You pulled your cap down that little further so that no one would really be able to see your face, and then you rested your hands on the table.

"I want to talk to someone who looks lonely. I've had a long day and I don't have many friends who would want to talk right now. Besides, it's my job to get to know the people in my community, isn't it?" I didn't really understand where you were going with it, but I didn't really have the heart to tell you to go away. So instead, I offered to get you a drink. You seemed quite reluctant, but we ended up figuring out pretty quickly that you needed something to take the edge off your day. I'm very much into making people feel comfortable so I knew what you needed. I brought us both drinks so that we could make it seem as if we were just there for a friendly chat. Something that we both knew wasn't quite the case, even though you said you just wanted to talk to someone. I did my usual routine too, where I took a tab from my bag and touched it to the top of your drink so you knew I didn't put anything in it. Then we began to chat.

It was as if we were old friends, even though we'd just met. You poured your heart out to me without warning. You told me about your relationship with your little sister and how she wished you were normal siblings so that you would be able to go on adventures together. You told me about the way you'd been raised; the way you'd gone to school with so many other children and you had to be quite formal all the time because if you'd done something wrong, it would've reflected badly on your family. But saying that, you could also use your powers for good. You had the power to stop bullying, and you had the power to make people feel more confident. If they read to you, they would feel happier with their skills as soon as you encouraged them. If they told you a story about their life, you always made sure that they swelled with pride by the time they'd finished. You were born to be a Prince - your attitude was gentle and kind, and you were good with the public.

But deep down, you said, you felt like a little child who was lost and confused. You didn't know what to make of the world around you. There was too much pressure piled on you at once. You hadn't experienced so many things that people your age would have experienced. You'd never snuck out of the house to go partying with your friends. You'd never had your first kiss and you'd never had sex. You had few friends to spend time with on a regular basis, you'd never had a sleepover, and you hadn't ever had a relationship.

And then you looked at me expectantly, as if I was going to tell you about my experiences too. But it was improper. I couldn't tell a Prince about these things. We'd only just met, for starters, and I knew that my lifestyle would put you off completely. You would regret telling me these sorts of things. You would feel very scornful and perhaps you would ask me to leave the community. There was no real place for a person like me in a happy community where men and women married each other and had children and were happy together. I was the person who broke families up and made people uncomfortable. If I thought about it, I was probably the cause of at least five divorces by that point. And this wasn't something a Prince really needed to know. So I kept my mouth shut and sipped my beer, and we remained quiet for too long before you finally spoke up again.

"Do you know why I'm here, Wonwoo?" you asked me softly. Cold prickled up my spine as soon as I heard you say my name like that. I stopped drinking mid-sip with my lips still on the rim of the glass, and then slowly lowered it down to the table as I turned to face you again. Neither of us spoke a word for a solid minute. "I know what you are, and I need your help. I need to prepare to take a wife, but I don't know what to do."  
"Well," I breathed as I adjusted my position in the seat. "I think you've come to the wrong person. I don't have experience with dating, and I certainly don't know how to had a relationship with a girl. I don't know what you expect me to do, but I don't think it's going to end up happening."

I stood to leave, feeling that little bit of humiliation starting to climb up my throat, but then you grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "Look, I know that you're a prostitute and it's not your job, but I can't think of anyone who would be better for this task. I'll pay you whatever you want - I just need someone who won't go around and tell everyone about this. I've heard whispers that you won't even speak a client's name to another person, and that's the sort of man I need to help me out with this. You're the only person who can do this for me."

It's a great way to meet someone, isn't it? They pretend to come over to you for an ear, and they end up telling you that they want you to be their helper so that they can have a functioning relationship in the future. I wanted to reject you so badly, but you were so desperate for someone to aid you that I couldn't bring myself to refuse. So I ended up agreeing, despite my heart telling me that it was a huge mistake. You said right away that we were going to go to a hotel and I was going to walk in first and go up to the rooms, and you were going to get a room before meeting me on the fifth floor. That was where they always put the high payers, and you knew that there were always rooms available if you asked for that floor. And so we finished the beer and left together, then headed towards your hotel of choice.


	2. Chapter 2

Do you remember our first proper kiss?

It was at that very hotel that you took me to, and you were absolutely awful.

Granted, you'd never kissed another person before. I should give you that much. Considering that you'd never done it before, I should give you plenty of credit for actually doing it. I know that if I'd never kissed a man before, I certainly wouldn't have the confidence to go up to a prostitute and ask for practice. You could've gone to any other person in the entire universe, but you go to the one man in the community who has kissed so many different men and slept with a load more. I've probably kissed more girls than you've been attracted to, too, and I'm not even attracted to women.

But I have to appreciate your dedication, even though you were nervous. As soon as we were inside that hotel room, the staff were going to turn a blind eye to everything that happened. It was a safe place. They were paid enough to keep their mouths shut and that's why we chose that particular place time and time again. Of course, they knew exactly what was happening when a well-known prostitute goes into the hotel at the same time as a rich gentleman, but they weren't going to say a single word about it. Not even to their colleagues. These sorts of things are private, and these sorts of hotels are known for seeing a lot of affairs through their doors.

So we sat down on the bed together, and I noticed that your determination was laced with fear. You didn't know what to expect, and I knew that I was going to have to teach you everything from scratch. My least experienced client in six years, and that's saying a lot when I'd had virgins before you even came onto the scene.

I figured that it was best to start you out with something quite simple. I made you close your eyes and then pressed a gentle kiss to your lips for five seconds. Neither of us moved in those seconds: we just stayed still and let the sensation absorb us. It was probably the most innocent kiss I'd ever shared with another man, and my lips still tingle when I think about how it felt. Your lips were not what I expected from a man like you. I thought that they would be a little rough and forceful, as most people's lips are when they're inexperienced in love. But your lips were soft, almost delicate. You were hesitant to kiss me back but still allowed me to hold the kiss for just a few seconds before pulling back. And then, when I pulled away, you stayed still for a moment. You committed the feeling of my lips to memory and I could see how it took your breath away, and I knew at that moment that you were going to struggle when you were forced to take a wife.

It broke my heart. It honestly did. There's something very different about kissing boys and girls. Girls have this very gentle way of kissing a man outside of the bedroom; a way of inviting him to see her most vulnerable side. Her eyes are closed and her heart is open, and most girls are so sweet when they kiss that you can feel the warmth bubbling up in your chest. But if you're not attracted to women - as neither of us is - it's just that. It's just a kiss with inherent warmth because you can feel the pure, tender heart underneath the surface.

Now, when you kiss boys, it's completely different. You know this now, but you didn't back when we shared our first kiss. Boys are often rougher; often firmer with their mouths. You can kiss a boy gently and he'll tempt you deeper until he has your heart broken in his fist. You can kiss a boy with force and he'll do just the same. He'll crush his lips against yours, claim your lips for himself, and make you feel as if he could simply reach into your body and destroy you. When you kiss a boy and you're attracted to boys, he'll make your head feel dizzy and make your chest feel tight. And it's beautiful. It's nothing like kissing a girl, but it'll make you feel even better because you know that you would give him all of your love if he asks you for it.

This was what I was worried about when I kissed you. Your eyes opened and you looked disorientated, as if you hadn't expected to be kissed like that. You took in a deep breath and ran a hand through your hair, and then you smiled a warm, beautiful smile as you realised that I'd noticed your change in attitude. "Now, I want you to kiss me," I told you, expecting that your determination would return, but you remained shy and sweet as you gave a nod. It was as if that kiss had completely changed you. "I kissed you for five seconds. Now, I want you to kiss me for ten seconds."

It was a challenge. I knew that you would instinctually want to pull away after a few seconds, but you had to get used to the feeling of someone else's lips against your own. So I closed my eyes and waited as you built up your courage and then leant in to kiss me. Our lips met very gently and I could barely feel you touching me, but I moved in that little bit closer and suddenly we were kissing a lot harder. You were sure that you wanted to be kissing me. I had a niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach that said I wanted to kiss you back, even though I would've never admitted that to you. Not then, probably not now either.

And it didn't stop after ten seconds. I remember that much.

No, I moved a hand up to stroke your cheek mid-kiss and you moved both of your hands to either side of my face so that you could kiss me deeper. I felt your lips part slightly under mine and took it as an excuse to bump it up that little bit more. I made sure to drag you in and create a rhythm between us: one where our lips met over and over again in beautiful harmony until I could hear that your breathing was becoming laboured. At that point, I decided that you needed a break and spent a few seconds gently sucking your lower lip. You took it as an excuse to explore by taking my top lip between your teeth and gently grazing the tip of your tongue against the skin. At that point, I slowly dragged myself away and looked directly into your eyes.

You were aroused. I could tell that much. If it was just from the kiss alone, I would have teased you, but this was something more. This was sexual tension between us. I'd snatched up your first kiss and now there was something between us. I knew that if I asked you, you would've given me your virginity on the spot. In fact, even if I hadn't asked you, you probably would've asked me to do that for you. You were mine. Your heart was in my hand and I had the power to nurture it or break it.

I chose to nurture it. We weren't going to have sex that day, and it was final. It was a part of my job, but I truly felt that to do that would be to take advantage of you when you were at a vulnerable point in your life. Your parents were pushing a marriage that you didn't want, along with the false idea that you were the one making the decisions, and you'd had a bit to drink. You wanted to feel like you belonged, and you wanted someone to make you feel as if you were able to do something good. And I wasn't prepared to ruin you with that. I wasn't prepared to make you feel as if you were even more vulnerable. You didn't deserve to go through that.

So we tried something else instead. Something that was a lot closer to sex, but encouraged you to develop your kissing skill quickly. You weren't bad at kissing when I took the lead - you just didn't know how to take the lead first. Which is fine if you're with another man, but that sort of thing usually doesn't fly when you're with a woman.

"How naked are you comfortable with being? Do you want to keep your trousers on? Strip to boxers? Or keep everything on for now?"  
"What are we doing?" you asked. There was a hint of fear in your voice, and it was laced with the excitement of a new experience.  
"We're going to kiss, but it's going to be a little bit more physical. Don't worry, I'm not going to take it too far. You'll still be a virgin by the end of the night." I have to admit, you looked a bit disappointed when I said that, but you knew that it was a learning process and we had to take it a step at a time. We couldn't just spend our time rushing things. Your preparation for the real world would be incredibly weak and you would struggle with your wife. I wasn't about to put you through that, as if we were running through a flash course on how to get someone into the bedroom.

"I want to be in my boxers. How about you?" Well, it was somewhat awkward because my boxers weren't all too equipped for that sort of interaction, but I undressed anyway and prepared myself to have your eyes undressing me further. They were the lace ones that you always asked me to wear after that day. The ones where you could see absolutely everything I had to offer, but in a way that made it look as if it was pretty. Genitals aren't exactly pretty, let's be honest, but the least I could do for my clients was make them feel as if they were getting a beautiful package. And you seemed amazed by that. Your eyes were between my thighs right away, and then you tried your hardest to bring them back up to meet my eyes. I tried to keep smiling so that you'd think that I was encouraging and not uncomfortable, but it was clear that you were nervous as soon as you realised that you couldn't lift your gaze for that long before your eyes naturally shifted back down.

"I, uh," you started as you realised that I'd noticed. "Uh, Wonwoo, can I, um?" And then you swallowed and it was clear that you were only getting more and more nervous as time passed.  
"Can you?" I asked calmly, in hopes that it would prompt you to continue.  
"Can I see what you look like underneath your boxers? I've never, uh... I've never seen another man's... you know..."

It was curiosity, rather than something sexual. That was the only reason why I gave you what you wanted. I knew that it was the best way to make you feel more comfortable with everything that was happening. So I took them off and watched as you inhaled. Your breath was sharp and your eyes shifted rapidly over my bare skin, and then you gave a little nod to say that you appreciated it. You didn't know what to make of it, but you liked what you saw. It put men's bodies into perspective for you. It made you realise that you were very much attracted to men's bodies, and you wanted a man in your bed. You couldn't think of anything worse than marrying a woman and not being able to see the beautiful shapes and curves of another man ever again. The way that a man's hips were sculpted and guided the eyes down between his thighs, and the way that his thighs curved slightly with the growth of muscle. The tight shape of his ass and the curve of his spine and the way that his ribs showed ever so slightly, and the way that his stomach curved right below his navel, and the way that his shoulders and collar were sculpted beautifully and _perfectly._

You almost considered coming out to your parents that day. You weren't attracted to me as a person, I don't think, but you were attracted to the prospect of a man's body. You found it alluring and you knew that you would never be able to experience a woman's body in that way. And the thought of being unhappy in a marriage absolutely crushed your heart because you knew that you would end up with a woman who was genuine and kind and beautiful, but you would never be able to look at her as you looked at another man. You could never close your eyes and feel an undying desire to touch her body.

I put my boxers back on and invited you closer before you got too caught up on the sight of the naked male form.

You seemed to be pretty hesitant from that point onwards. It was likely because you were nervous about becoming attached because you knew from that point that we couldn't be together. It was something that we _both_ knew. In most other cases, you probably wouldn't have needed to worry about that, but you were inexperienced and the sight of a naked man in front of you left you speechless, and then you realised that you had kissed that naked man and that's where your problem was. But this is what you'd chosen to do - you'd chosen to employ a prostitute to get more experience, so you felt that you couldn't back out, and I wasn't about to convince you that it wasn't right for us to do these sorts of things when you'd already made up your mind that you wanted to do this. You were twenty-three and a grown adult, and I wasn't your parent.

Then again, you were pretty easy to get on your back. I asked you to lie down and you did as you were told, and then I crawled over you and we began kissing again. This time was a lot more passionate, though. Your hesitation had been blown out of the water and you _wanted_ to be touched and kissed all of a sudden. You crushed your lips against mine with passion until I insisted on easing up and being gentle. And then your body was on edge. You wanted to be able to take things further. You wanted to feel me snaking a hand up your inner thigh and grazing it against the front of your boxers. You had fantasies about this in the short period where our lips were together, and I put an abrupt stop to that so that we would be able to be gentler.

You didn't like it to start with, but then you realised exactly what it meant as soon as my lips began to stray. You cocked your head to the side so that I had full access to your neck, and you let out a little whine when you felt my tongue tracing where your ear met your head. That was when I learnt how sensitive your ears are. Just kissing the back of them was enough to make you moan the first time, and it was still enough when I last touched you. 

It was the same with your neck the first time. When I kissed your neck, you were very vocal. In fact, if I remember correctly, you ended up getting pretty aroused when I kissed your neck. I remember feeling it against my leg. I also remember you trying to shift your weight so that I wouldn't be able to feel it, but it resulted in you knocking it against my thigh a few more times. In the end, I simply pressed my knee between your thighs so you knew that I was aware of it and that it didn't matter to me. And okay, you were embarrassed, but it was less embarrassing for you than it would've been if I pretended not to notice it. That would've suggested that I wasn't interested in it, which I very much _was_.

On this particular occasion, I only went as far as kissing your neck and ears and lips. I could've gone down further. Your nipples were hard and were inviting me to kiss them, and your chest was already glazed with sweat, which was rather endearing to see when we were simply kissing each other. But it would have encouraged us to take things further, and I couldn't bring myself to put you through that. I couldn't bring myself to get you worked up, only to bring you straight back down again when I realised that we were going too far for your experience level. Part of it was out of fear, with you being a Prince and all, but another part of it was because I didn't want you to have to push yourself when it would have overwhelmed you. I think I respected you a lot, even back then. Even though you weren't asking me to treat you as such.

But hey, it made you a lot more comfortable with me when it was your turn. I think that was the best part of that first experience: you weren't hesitant at all by the time we finished. You had my hands pinned above my head and you were kissing me all over. Your lips started on my lips, but then you began to kiss my cheeks, temples, jaw, ears, neck, and then you began to take it further as soon as you were confident that I was enjoying it. You kissed under my arms, despite my insistence that it was unsanitary for you to do that in the humidity of summer - when it was only natural for everyone to be sweaty - and then you began to kiss downwards. My chest. My nipples. My navel. I felt your tongue grazing places that hadn't been kissed in years, thanks to a string of meaningless romps with clients who just needed someone other than their wife to satisfy their needs. My body naturally arched against your mouth, although I wouldn't dare to tell you that until now. After all, what could you possibly do about it now? Nothing at all.

By the time we finished that night, we were both hot and bothered. I was genuinely very aroused by the way your inexperience was outweighed heavily by your desire to please, and you had remained completely stiff the entire time. Of course, we still weren't going to go all the way that night when the focus was on getting you used to kissing someone else - something that you'd picked up very naturally and were going to be amazing at, once you'd practised that little bit more - but that didn't mean that I was going to leave you without any relief. So I ended up stroking you and watched as your eyes fluttered shut with bliss as you realised that I knew what men liked in the bedroom. Your lips parted slightly as you whispered that it felt good, and so I continued stroking both of us at the same time. The friction of being pressed against someone, mixed with the touches from two hands at once, made for an experience that brought us that little bit closer. You seemed to really enjoy how it felt, and I couldn't help but feel a warm tingle in the pit of my stomach as I began to notice signs that your climax was on the way. It was subtle, but your legs were twitching and your elbows were locked so tightly that you looked pretty awkward, and then you shakily leant down to kiss me on the lips as your climax hit.

Now, it would be rude to ask you to remember what happened before we parted ways. I don't think either of us knew what happened for the most part. My best guess is that we took a nap together and then one of us woke the other up with gentle kisses. Something that I wouldn't dare to do with most clients, but something that felt strangely natural with you because I convinced myself that you needed the extra practice wherever possible. You were due to get married within the year, and that was a pretty big deal when you'd only just had your first kiss.

All I know is that we parted ways in the early hours of the morning, and we agreed to meet every two days so that we could practice building your skills.

So perhaps you weren't so bad. A bit too enthusiastic, a bit too determined to take it further, and easily excited by the prospect of kissing another man. Not at all suited to kissing a woman, especially with it being so obvious that you like men. But I think it serves to save our feelings if we say that it wasn't good; if we say it was a bad experience for us both.


	3. Chapter 3

Do you remember how quickly you fell in love with me?

I can answer that myself, don't worry. I know you know how quickly it happened, but you wouldn't dare tell anyone about that. It was a secret that you were planning on taking to the grave, and I was the only person in this world who could really tell how much love was in your heart when we were together.

I've been considering whether I should write you this letter or not, actually. The other ones have been basic and simple, written about the truth of the matter, but this one is subject to interpretation. I feel that you probably won't enjoy this letter as much. You were always so adamant that you didn't love me in the beginning, and I'm worried that it'll hit a sore spot and leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

But I suppose that this letter is still speaking the truth. You see, you _did_ fall for me. I fell for you too. It's not something that I like to advertise, seeing as you were merely a client and completely unattainable - whether we liked that or not - but it's the truth of the matter and that's what I'm writing. I hope that this isn't too much of a bother for you, especially seeing as you've moved on and all.

I can pinpoint the exact day that you started showing signs of being in love, by the way. I remember it vividly, and every single detail grips at my heart so desperately that I can't ignore it any longer. It was the day that your parents were away on business, just over a fortnight after we first met. And yes, it was that quick. Please don't try to deny it. We saw each other almost every day and you were taking up all of my time outside of the meetings too, and whilst I should've told you to stuff it and get on with it yourself, I couldn't bring myself to do it when you were so desperate to learn from me.

We'd had a particularly heavy session, in which we were completely undressed and our lips were swollen from the kisses that we'd been exchanging. Sexually speaking, we still hadn't made it too far yet. I'd made sure that we were both satisfied by the end of each session - which was important, considering that basic kisses had you straining against my thigh - but that was the extent of it. A quick tug once a meeting. It was impersonal and nothing like the kisses, which were always on fire. Every single time. I can't even describe to you how beautiful it felt to have your lips against mine after two weeks of developing your technique, filled with both passion and vigour, but I'm sure you can imagine it well.

Of course, you were tired once we'd finished. It was to be expected. So I told you that I would take a shower and leave so that you had the chance to sleep, and suddenly your face scrunched. "Did I say I wanted you to leave?" you asked. I raised an eyebrow.  
"Mr. Kim, are you aware of the fact that whilst the staff won't speak of this, other guests aren't obliged to keep their mouths shut? If we sleep and then we wake in the morning and leave at similar times, someone is going to clock onto the fact that you hired a male prostitute. And as far as they're concerned, it doesn't matter if we were in here playing mahjong or having aggressive intercourse against the window - we're in the same room and that's what matters."

You didn't care, or so you said. You simply wanted to get on with the nap. Perhaps we could sleep for a few hours and then I could leave, you suggested. It was only eight o'clock and you were sure that I could wake up by eleven o'clock. Then it wouldn't be that much of an issue. I rolled my eyes at you, but you were absolutely insistent and so I ended up doing just that. You didn't even let me pull my clothes back on before enveloping me from behind and pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck, and then you were out cold within seconds. Completely unresponsive and too heavy for me to move you. I wasn't too fond of being held so tightly but I supposed that I would have to live with it, at least until we woke up again.

But we forgot to set an alarm, remember? We said that I would wake up at eleven o'clock but it didn't quite turn out like that. No, I woke up at two o'clock in the morning, and only when you jolted up and hissed a curse at the clock. My eyes peeled open and then I glanced up at you, and you made the most awkward face possible as you ran a hand through your hair.

"Hey." That was all you said. I stared at you blankly, waiting for some sort of explanation for your cursing and sitting up, but you didn't offer one. Instead, you flopped back down onto the pillow and allowed me to cuddle against your side. Again, it's not something that I usually do, but I get rather clingy when I'm tired. It's something that you didn't mind, thankfully, and I felt your arm wrap around me right away. For the first time, it felt as if I was in a proper relationship. Do you remember how I told you about that somewhere down the line? I'm not sure if you do, but it's not important anyway. The bottom line was that you made me feel safe and loved and that's something I've never experienced with another person before, and never experienced since our time together.

"What's the problem?" I eventually asked, figuring that you wouldn't say anything if I didn't speak up first. The scent of your cologne began to suffocate me as I spoke. The smell of it was still strong, even though it had been hours since you applied it, but it suddenly gushed into my mouth as soon as I spoke, and that taste made my head feel dizzy.  
"Oh, I just realised," you replied right away, trying your hardest to sound even more casual now that you'd noticed me trying to suppress a cough. "We've hit the early hours of the morning and that means a few things. The first is that you still didn't get your dinner. The second is that we're still here together. The third is that I don't want you going home on your own because I'm worried about your safety."

Remember? You genuinely said that to me, as if it wasn't my job to walk to the streets in the early hours of the morning and get a rich guy to pay an incredible amount of money just to romp with me in an alley somewhere. I almost laughed before I realised that you were absolutely, one hundred per cent serious about it. "Well, I'm sure that I'll be fine on my way home. I do know these streets well, you know."  
"I don't want to see you walking around on your own, though."  
"Trust me, I'll be fine."

You weren't going to argue back, but I could still see cogs turning in your mind. You knew that you wanted to say something, but you didn't know what to say. For a while, you just sat there, and so I eventually got up to take a shower. "Wait." And then I paused, having not made it far at all. "Can I get you something to eat? You were hungry when we first met and I stopped you from getting dinner, so I feel it's my duty to take you to the nearest food place and get you something to eat."

I tried to argue with you over that too, but you were absolutely insistent that you were getting food with me. There was a place down the street that didn't ask questions, and you said you liked that. It was something that you particularly enjoyed when you snuck out of the house to go to parties with your friends, or so you said, because your parents were always none the wiser.

I have to admit, I was a bit surprised to find out that you snuck out of the palace to go to parties. I didn't think that these sorts of things would stay low-key for too long, especially if it was quite a common occurrence. Usually, the media are on that sort of thing before you have the chance to get home from the party. Then again, though, I supposed you had a way to do it and decided not to question it. You would have to have a way, wouldn't you? Or else, you wouldn't have managed to sneak out to see me either. I'm sure your parents wouldn't be happy to know that you were in a hotel with a prostitute, and they certainly wouldn't be happy to find out that you were taking me to your favourite fast food restaurant in the early hours of the morning so that we could be away from the silence of the night together. I think as much as they love you, they would've drawn the line at that point, especially considering your order.

Surely, you remember the order. It was something that surprised me a lot. An incredible amount of fried food and barbeque meat for two of us to eat at that hour, along with a huge milkshake for us to share. Once the waiter was gone, I rested my gaze on your face for a moment. "Why just one milkshake? Why not two smaller ones?"  
"Oh, they put a lot more syrup in the big ones," you said, as if it was common knowledge and you'd been through this a hundred times before. I wasn't too sure, though. If you were going there on a regular basis, they would usually give you the courtesy of customising your drinks. Especially at that hour. Something as simple as a cup size wouldn't really stop them from doing something like that for a loyal customer. But I wasn't prepared to call you out over it for two reasons. The first was that I didn't want to humiliate you by suggesting that it was another excuse to be close to me. The second was that you started talking before I had the chance to come up with how I would word it.

"So, tell me," you started, your eyes flashing with curiosity as you leant in that little bit closer. That alone told me that I was going to regret not thinking up a way to call you out that bit sooner. "Why did you become a prostitute in the first place?" I swallowed thickly and redirected my gaze towards the kitchen, where they were already starting to arrange the raw meat on the tray for us to barbeque, then eventually looked back into your eyes. The curious side quickly faded as soon as we made eye contact, and then you suddenly bit down on your lower lip. "Hey, I mean, if you're not comfortable with telling me, that's fine too."

"It's not that, it's just..." I didn't really want to tell you. But you'd asked, so you were going to get an answer. I told you the gruesome details about my family life: the way that I was one of five children and all but two of us had died, so I turned to this sort of job to help my parents to pay for my younger brother to get a good education. He was a respectful child with good morals, but I was quite the opposite. And I loved him dearly, so it didn't seem like that much of a sacrifice. Then you asked how old I was when I started the job, and I informed you that I was thirteen at the time. Your face suddenly clouded with fear, and then my wall broke down.

I'll never forget your face when you realised that my cracked expression was showing amusement, rather than hurt. You suddenly looked confused, your eyes darting around my face desperately, as if the answers were written right there for you but they weren't in a language that you could understand. "You believed it all, didn't you?" I asked softly. The confusion stayed, although you looked betrayed for a fraction of a second. "Look, not everyone gets into this sort of job because they have a tragic past. Parts of it are true, of course, because no one gets into this sort of career when they have a perfect family life and their parents can afford to get them a degree with honours. My parents weren't rich enough to be able to give us everything we could possibly want, but they had enough to give us what we needed and the odd luxury. I wanted more than just the basics when I was an adult, though. I wouldn't expect my parents to give it to me - I was going to earn it all myself. And so I did."

You didn't know how to respond to that. The waiter began to fill the table up as you stared at me in silence. It told me that you were naive enough to believe that rich people got good things and poor people took up this sort of job instead. You'd probably been fed a number of philosophical arguments in your time. Self-fulfilling prophecy, where I would've been told that I had no skills for anything other than sex work, and so I'd gone ahead and put myself in his position. The theory of a just world, in which things like this only happened to people who deserved it, and good people like yourself got good things in return for your kindness. This sort of thing that made it seem justified for me to be like this. And so we sat in silence as you took it all in and the table was filled to the brim with plates, and the grill was heated up on the table between us. I took the tongs from the tray and began cooking some of the meat.

"I don't mean anything horrible by this, but we aren't all fed with a golden spoon. Your ancestors worked hard to get to this point, where their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren don't have to worry about financial stability. My ancestors were unable to do the same for us, so I've learnt to work for what I want. And I promise you, it's not as sad a life as you seem to think it is. My parents still love me. I get on well with my brother. I'm earning enough to buy a house, but I rent one so that I can move if I begin to receive threats. If I want a laptop, mobile phone, car, or anything else, I can go out and buy one. I can't think of any other job that would let me continue living a comfortable life if I retired at thirty."

For a while, you stayed silent, but then your mouth opened again to ask me whether I was still seeing other people whilst I was taking your money. I pointed out that that was what a prostitute did. You informed me that you were going to pay me extra to have you as my only client. "It's crazy," I told you in disbelief, but you weren't having any of it.  
"Look, you might enjoy sex, but if I'm going to lose my virginity to you, I have to be completely clean. You need to go to the hospital for checks, and you need to avoid sleeping with any other men until after I'm married, okay?"

"Or we could just use a condom." It was simple and didn't require much brain power to see that sort of solution. Still, you shook your head.  
"I'm not using a condom when I lose my virginity."  
"What if I tell you that you're wearing a condom for your first time or we're not doing it?"  
"That's shit because I've _told_ you that I had to make an oath to my ancestors that disallows any form of protection or birth control. You're not gonna make me break that oath when I'm paying you fifteen million won a month for the next six months, are you?"

My jaw dropped. I didn't know what to be more bothered about - the fact that you cursed so openly, or the fact that you were willing to give me almost twice my usual wage every month to see you a few times a week and just teach you how to have an adult relationship. It took a moment for me to collect myself again and I chose not to question it further, since I figured that prying into your thoughts about payments and exclusivity like that would be rude. You weren't having that, though. You wanted me to know how you felt, and you weren't willing to put up with my silence. "Besides, Wonwoo," you breathed, your voice sounding as if you were trying to calm yourself down. My eyes flickered up towards your face for a moment and then back down towards the meat. "I already can't stand the thought of other men touching you. Do you know how much it hurts to think about it?"

"Not really." You let out a huff when I said that. It was my attempt at teasing you, of course, but you weren't in the mood to be teased.  
"I wish I could have you against a hotel window that's so big it takes up the entire wall. So that everyone in the town could see us together and know that you're mine. I would kiss you so hard and touch you all over, and it would be so obvious to everyone that I wasn't looking for a wife."  
"You'd want to tell them like that?" You suddenly grew shy and began shovelling rice into your mouth as you tried to think of an answer to the question.  
"I mean... it's better I tell them like that than announce it on television or something, isn't it? I don't think I'd like everyone to be able to hear a confession like that."

You were starting to get flustered by it. That much was clear. Of course, it _wouldn't_ be better to be caught having sex with a prostitute instead of coming out to everyone properly. That sort of thing has caused so many issues in the past and you know that. And it's usually the internally homophobic men who come out like that. The leaders of homophobic organisations in America, the politicians who push for marriage inequality in Europe. No self-respecting man would ever allow himself to be caught like that because he would be lumped in with _those_ men. I figured that it was best to keep my mouth shut at that point and avoid bringing up the fact that you spoke as if you owned me too. 

You see, even though you hadn't told me specifically, you were starting to get attached to what we had. You'd taken me to a place that held significance in your life. We had a nap together and you looked at me as if I held the stars in my eyes. You grew jealous when you thought about other men kissing and touching me. When you ate, you scowled slightly to show that the thought was in the back of your mind still, but I touched your knee under the table and you immediately went out of your way to grab and stroke my hand. You made sure that I had the best cuts of meat when we were eating, and then you stared into my eyes when the milkshake arrived and you'd calmed enough to be able to drink it with me.

You walked me home that night, despite my insistence that you didn't need to do that. You were still worried that I wouldn't be safe, you said, even though I pointed out that I often went home at this hour. That only made you scowl again, and you held my hand as you took me to my doorstep. Then, once I unlocked the door, you checked that there was no one around before pressing an assured kiss to my lips and wishing me a good night.

As much as you wouldn't admit it, Prince Kim, you were in love with me at that point. Perhaps not as deeply as it seemed, but you were showing so many signs of being in love and that absolutely crushed me to see. Primarily because I was already starting to develop feelings in return, and this had never happened to me before. So I began overthinking and asking myself if it was because you were famous or because of your status. The very thought of falling in love with you scared me more than it scared you because I had a lot more to lose. 

But that's for another letter. For now, just try to remember that feeling on your own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last posted because I've had five weeks straight of observations at work and actually, the only reason why I'm able to relax enough to write this is because my advisor changed my schedule for next week, seeing as we're both new and I'd embarrass us both if I was set free with the task of entertaining 18 people for an hour on Monday (:
> 
> But!!!!! To put a really long story short, I have 14 classes a week now and our summer school teaching programme is starting in a few weeks, so this means that updates might be quite slow!! Please be patient and I'll update when I can!!
> 
> Thank you for your support <3


	4. Chapter 4

Do you remember when I taught you how to use your mouth?

I can't say for sure whether you remember - or whether you _want_ to remember, for that matter - but I'm sure your wife knows by this point. I'm sure you've practised your techniques very well. I'm sure that it's your attempt to convince yourself that you like women, and that's something that she'll brag about for years to come. "My husband goes down on me at least once a week," she'll say to her friends. You'll give a sheepish smile when your friends bring it up, and you'll tell them that it's your way of giving back to her. After all, she's the mother of your children: she deserves something to make her feel as if she's worth your time. There's no use in using her as a masturbation sleeve when you could have simply stayed single if that was what you were looking for in a relationship.

But I know the truth. I know that if you _do_ do that, you'll be doing it because you feel like you have to remind yourself of what you're expected to be. If you mix genitals with her, there are only two options. It goes in the front and you convince yourself that you just used too much lube and you'll try better to reduce the amount you use next time. It goes in the back - as a form of birth control since you're not allowed to use artificial contraceptives and all - and it feels like you're screwing a man until she makes a sound in her pretty little voice and breaks you away from that fantasy.

So you'll kiss her down there, in hopes that it'll remind you that that's the way things should be. You shouldn't need to do that since you're "attracted to women". But you do, because you know that there's no competition. You love men. You love dick. You love the way that we make you smile when we kiss you, and the way it feels to tumble into bed with another guy. You love the way we kiss and the way we hold you, and the way that you don't need to worry about breaking us. The way our voices are when they tickle your ear and the way that we groan when you grab us in certain places. You can't get any of this from a woman, at least not in the way that you want to experience it.

It makes you hurt and I know that. But for now, think about this. Think about how I taught you to do it, and the way this affected you when we were first together.

Up until that point, we'd continued with the kisses. You were getting more and more sexually frustrated as time passed, but I wanted to make you suffer through it. Sadistic, I know, but I couldn't bring myself to touch you just then. A little piece of my mind was telling me that you needed more time, despite your insistence that you wanted to get on with it as quickly as possible. I supposed it was probably because you seemed almost childish when I was telling you that we needed to wait for a while longer. That you were so impatient and you wanted me to teach you everything all at once, and that _that_ made me a bit frustrated. So I dragged it out for as long as physically possible, and then I eventually caved when you informed me that that was the last time you were going to kiss me until I took things further. It was a childish move and made you seem even less mature, but I supposed that it was to be expected.

You got what you wanted after that. On that exact day, in fact. I told you that I would be using my mouth on you. "Hey," you said quietly, your voice sounding almost panicked. You didn't know what to do for a moment, and we stared into each other's eyes in silence for what felt like forever. "Are you sure you want to do that? It's a bit dirty to... you know, lick someone's genitals, don't you think?" Of course, my eyes rolled. I'm sure your eyes are rolling right now, too. If you remember this, you'd remember being so nervous about this sort of thing and the bacteria that was on someone else's genitals, and that was something that seemed to worry you so much that I almost asked you whether you wanted to simply skip that so that you didn't end up feeling too uncomfortable or anything. 

"Do you think it bothers me?" I asked you, trying to make it seem as if I wasn't about to laugh. A hard task, I have to admit. You nodded a little bit, showing off that shy side to your personality that I'd never really witnessed before. It was quite endearing. "Mr Kim, I've had so many people's genitals in my mouth before and admittedly, I've probably licked worse on more than one occasion. I'm sure it won't affect me too much if I go down on you. But do be warned, your wife will probably want this when you get married, so you're gonna need to brace yourself for the thought of licking between a woman's thighs too."

You shuddered. It was an uncomfortable sort of shudder and I could tell that much from the grimace that flashed across your features for a fraction of a second. You didn't want to think about kissing between a girl's thighs and I have to admit, I don't blame you. If that's the sort of thing you're into, I think it's nice and easy, but it's really something that has the power to repulse you if you're not into that sort of thing. I'm sure that straight men have it when they think about sucking dick. Same with lesbians and straight girls with the respective parts. Of course, there are some exceptions to this rule but for the most part, the thought alone makes a lot of people uncomfortable. After all, even though all genitals are pretty ugly, it has its charm when you're attracted to the thought of mixing bodies with someone who has those genitals.

Anyway, that was when you took me to the hotel. Same room as always, same lack of expression from the receptionist as she gave you the room key and wished us a good night. She was still pretending that we were supposed to be here, and we were still pretending that we were different people who had simply come to put our heads down for the night. And so we hurried off to the room and as soon as we got there, I was on my knees for you.

You looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Your back was against the wall and your hands were pressing so deep into the drywall that I thought we were going to end up crashing through into the next room if we weren't careful. Especially seeing as I hadn't even started at that point. In fact, it was only then that I began to unzip your trousers and slowly pull it out, and you only grew that bit more uncomfortable when you realised that you were already starting to get stiff.

I was surprised, actually. You'd made such a big deal out of asking me whether I was serious about using my mouth on you, only for me to find out that you _desperately_ wanted it. You wouldn't tell me what had changed, of course, but it seemed as if you had suddenly decided that oral sex was a good idea. As if you'd spent the past few hours just looking through all of the relevant websites to get an idea of how much other men enjoyed it. As if you'd seen videos and watched people's reactions and thought about whether you thought it was real or whether they were just overexaggerating for the cameras. And you'd ultimately decided that it was something you wanted to give a try.

Of course, though, that wasn't the case at all. How could it be when I'd only just suggested it to you? I think your body had decided that it was sexy before you'd decided that that was the case. Either that or you knew that you would be into it all along. You were simply trying to avoid seeming as if you were desperate for it when your body knew that it craved the feeling of someone's lips wrapping around it in such an intimate way that your entire body was left feeling as if it was on fire.

I began.

The first thing I noted was the fact that you let out a sigh of relief as soon as you were in my mouth. And it was one of _those_ sighs as if you'd been waiting your entire life to feel it. As if your body had been anticipating it and the build-up just reached the absolute peak, only to spiral back down with pleasure as it got what it wanted. As if it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever had in your life. It was as if every bit of tension left your body as I took you halfway into my mouth, making sure not to go all the way in case it gave you a false idea of what you had to do when you practised this. The reality is that taking it into your throat is a porn trope and sure, a few of us working men and women try it when we're in a position where we feel it's best to make a client feel like he's big enough to choke someone, but it doesn't mean that it's something you should learn.

And I'm sure that you'd never watched porn before. You'd heard of these sorts of things because your friends had talked about them, but you'd never witnessed it because you were too scared that your mum would catch you and she'd hit the roof. You were scared that if she saw you watching that, she'd sit you down and make you understand how men and women were supposed to love each other.

Worse yet, there was a risk that you would have explored your sexuality before your puberty finally hit at the ripe age of seventeen. I remember it well. You still sounded like a baby until you were almost an adult, and then you matured so suddenly. Your voice dropped, you started to develop facial hair, and you grew over a foot in a month. You'd gone from a baby to an attractive young man in under half a year - if you consider all of the other things that come alongside puberty, such as acne and mood swings - and so you were treated as such. Imagine your mother's face, though, if she'd caught you watching videos of two men doing exactly what we were doing. I think she would've collapsed from shock.

But now her little boy was in a hotel room with a known prostitute, completely stiff and throbbing with the need to be touched. His hands were buried in this man's hair, encouraging him to take more; to let him feel that beautiful feeling where he knew that no more would fit inside. He was promptly dragged over to the bed by said prostitute, having reached the end of that man's patience, and then thrown down so that he was left sprawled out on his back. His thighs were pinned against the bedsheets in a dominant sort of way, as if to tell him that he had no power in the bedroom when he was still a complete virgin, and then the lips began to graze over the tip. Puppy licks tortured him, urging his hips to rise up and seek more of that mouth, and then that prostitute began sucking just the tip. 

Mummy's little boy barely lasted ten minutes. I was surprised that you made it that long, considering that you were whining and trying so desperately to choke back moans the whole time. I didn't think I'd hear you get so vocal in such a pathetic way, but I couldn't really tease you over it. It was your first time with anyone, and you had been so desperate for someone to touch you like that for the longest time. It was made worse by our chemistry, even worse by the sexual tension we shared, and then near enough impossible when I encouraged you to anticipate the feeling of a man sucking you.

And so, there you were. Panting like an animal, trying so hard to avoid looking at the gob of semen that I spat onto your stomach. That made it real and it reminded you that you hadn't had the decency to tell me that you were about to hit your climax. It was humiliating for you, of course.

I had to prove to you that it wasn't that bad and that you'd be working something completely different. Just to amp it up that little bit more.

"You took a shower today, didn't you?" I asked. You nodded. "Are you sure?" You nodded again, but slower. "Okay, let me lick your asshole." There it was again. The sudden panic. The blurted explanation about how, okay, some people did lick each other's genitals, but the back door was a step too far. How you couldn't even bear the thought of letting me see it, nevermind kiss it. How it was going to be humiliating, and it was so sensitive that you were scared of being even louder.

Then it clicked.

You'd accidentally revealed that you'd touched it before. My eyebrows raised as you let out a gasp of surprise, and so you proceeded to blurt out more at an even faster rate. You'd only touched it a few times when I'd left and you were sexually frustrated, and it had only been because I'd never really allowed you to dominate before, and so you had this idea in your head that you'd be the one to take it if we ever had sex, and you'd only had the fantasy right after we'd been together. It didn't have to be me, of course. It could have been anyone. But because we'd been together, you'd imagined me putting my fingers inside of your body. You had done it because you didn't know what else to do and now you were left with this feeling that you could only be the one to take it if we were ever in bed together.

I was surprised, to say the least. A man of your height - one hundred and eighty-six centimetres - asking someone shorter to dominate you. Someone of your build, with good muscles and strength, wanting a smaller man to make you feel little. You had a sort of babyish way of saying it, and you were so shy that I couldn't help it. My heart felt as if it was being pulverised by a meat tenderiser. I had a huge crush on you and it only really became obvious to me when you did cute things like that. I ended up kissing you hard on the mouth and telling you that if you let me try it with you, it would make it clear to you how your wife would feel when you lick her most sensitive parts. There are more nerve endings in her sweet spot than in the head of your penis, I told you, so it'll feel like me going down on you like that.

You were hesitant and I almost told you to forget it, since I wanted full and untainted consent from you, but then when you removed your trousers, I noticed the big reason why you were so nervous. You'd not shaved there since you didn't really expect that I'd be kissing you there too. I could tell that from the way that you suddenly went shy and hid your face in your hands. Your cheeks were going red and you began to apologise, telling me that you'd researched how two men would make love, and the one on bottom was always hairless and cute, and now you felt humiliated because you'd figured that you would shave when I showed signs of wanting to take things further with you. You didn't feel cute when you were so gangly and tall and this was your one chance to feel like this desire was normal. I didn't know what to do.

"You know that's something that's made up, right? Men are supposed to have body hair. _People_ are _generally_ supposed to have body hair. That idea was put in place purely to make it seem like masculine and feminine dynamics are in every relationship. The person on the bottom is expected to shave because he takes the position of your typical woman and in society, even here, women are expected to follow certain shaving rules. It's a way of feminising you. You're not a woman, Kim Mingyu, and this is not a heterosexual encounter."

Do you remember what happened next? I think you probably do. We had the most thirsty oral sex I could have imagined, almost getting to the point of mixing bodies completely. It was the first time I dared to put fingers inside of a client since I knew that it was something you'd fantasised about quite a lot, and I made sure to use my mouth on you until my lips were swollen and your body was aching from the back-on-back orgasms that you'd had. I wasn't going to stop until your fears about your body image were gone. You were mine for those few hours, and you were going to feel like that for the rest of the day, perhaps even the rest of the week.

Mr Kim, you did things to me that made my heart and body ache simultaneously. I've been with a lot of men in my time, but nothing compares to that feeling of fresh love when you find someone so gentle - so _pure_ \- who really changes your views on these sorts of things. You made my heart soft in the few hours we were together that day, and it hurt more knowing that we weren't meant to be together when my head had been filled with the sound of your voice for so many hours on end.


	5. Chapter 5

Do you remember your first time?

Stupid question. It was something that you saw as sacred - despite my insistence that it didn't have to be a big deal, and you took huge pride in it throughout our time together. At times, you made it out to seem as if it wasn't a big deal, but then again, you didn't want it to be with just anyone. You were shy about it when the topic came up, and you were always too gentle with your tone and mannerisms when I brought the topic up.

"You see," you told me, "I don't want to be a virgin when I marry someone because if neither of us knows what to do, it'll be embarrassing. And if she knows what to do but I don't, then that's going to be _humiliating._ Could you imagine it going around the kingdom that I'm awful in bed?" But then when I told you that, as a man, no one would judge you for having sex with countless people before marriage, you shied away. "I want it to feel special," you said softly in response to that. "I can't just go around sleeping with everyone."

Of course, you would deny it, though. In fact, you even managed to keep the topic out of the waters for quite some time when we were working on getting you ready for the wedding. The date of the ball was coming up - having been delayed for almost a month longer than anticipated due to the sheer number of professional obligations your family had at that point in time - and so you were getting antsy about that instead. You didn't know how to dance, you didn't know how to act around women, and you didn't want to humiliate your entire family by messing it up completely. If you came out of it without a wife picked out, you were going to end up having huge issues, and we all knew that you weren't going to be able to marry someone from outside of our community since it would upset a lot of people.

And so we hadn't spoken about sex at all, really. It just wasn't something that was a priority. At least, not until you were a lot more comfortable with your ability to do everything else.

On that day - the day that you'd picked out your suit and masquerade mask and you'd perfected your dancing and your parents had picked the menu apart with a fine-toothed comb - you asked me to go for dinner with you. It was a way of celebrating the fact that you'd made it through and you had almost two full weeks to relax before everything came into play. Almost two full weeks of not overthinking whenever we were together. Almost two full weeks where we could kiss without distraction, and you would actually be able to hit your climax from oral sex again, rather than having a distracted mind the whole time.

So we went out together. It was just something casual between two friends, I suppose, and we'd dressed accordingly. It was probably the first time you'd been comfortably informal in front of me, wearing clothes that you liked instead of wearing things that you thought people wouldn't recognise you in, and I was happy to see that. Likewise, I was wearing something more comfortable. Glasses instead of contact lenses - which you'd never seen me wearing before - and freshly-washed wavy hair instead of the straight look that I always had. A loose-fitted t-shirt with a woollen cardigan over the top, and then slightly worn jeans. When you saw it, you sucked your breath in hard through your mouth. You told me that I was handsome and that you would commit the image to memory. Embarrassing, but enough to set the tone for the rest of the evening.

The walk to the location of the get-together was painful. I could tell that you were trying your hardest to refrain from holding my hand and whilst I would usually just grab your hand to snatch away that inner conflict, I guessed that it was the wrong place to do that. You were more likely to be recognised, and to purposely increase the likelihood of someone noticing us was to be selfish and unfair towards you. I didn't want to put you in a position where you felt anxious or uncomfortable, especially when you were showing yourself to me in this sort of way. Especially when you had everything planned out so perfectly.

The first part was dinner. Peasant's dinner. It was a typical Korean restaurant, as one would expect here, and we ate more food than we probably should have done. Our plates were piled high and we chatted about everything. Our joys and falls. The things we liked doing. The things we didn't like doing. All of the things that we'd gradually been learning about each other, mixed with some new things that had never come up. It was great to be able to hear your opinion on so many things, and we ended up having a little bit of conflict in our opinions too. But that's to be expected. After all, you were raised with a golden spoon in your mouth and you had everything that you could possibly, possibly need in life. I, on the other hand, had experienced poverty throughout my life. Parents who were loving but couldn't afford to get me the things that your parents showered you in. We experienced the same kind of love but in very different ways. I would have been more surprised if we'd agreed with everything that the other said.

Then there was the second part - watching a movie together. A typical movie date between friends. We made our way into the room and sat down, and then watched the movie. A horror film.

I didn't really think that you'd like horror films. Apparently, I was right. You didn't like horror films that much at all, but you'd chosen that one because you thought that I would love things like that. And I have to admit, I thought it was a good film, but I was worried about you the whole time. The gore started immediately and you immediately grabbed for my hand. I was certain that it was just an excuse to hold hands, but then I could feel you trembling slightly throughout the movie. In the end, I had to cuddle you, which wasn't unwelcome at all. It was just a bit weird to see your reactions to those sorts of things. I'd expected that you would be a lot more with the gore when you've probably seen worse horrors during your international visits, but I supposed that reality sometimes becomes numb and you rarely see a shadow creature breaking someone's jaw in real life.

We didn't end up bringing the topic of fears as we walked home, though. Not once. It was something more light-hearted and warm. You insisted on taking me all the way to my doorstep, having come up with more and more sweet topics to talk about along the way, and I allowed it this time. Of course, I wasn't planning on making a habit out of it when it meant that you'd eventually remember where I lived, but I could allow it just once.

When we made it there, I turned to face you and took the key out of my pocket. "Thank you again for spending most of your day with me. And well done for pushing through all of the tough things that you've had to face this month." We were friends, I told myself, so it was normal to move in and hug you tightly. It was very normal. In fact, it was something you expected from me. You weren't just a client by that point, remember: we'd been everywhere together and so it was only natural to see our relationship as something more than professional.

Then you leant in to kiss me. Again, I didn't have complaints because whilst that was certainly taking things past the "just friends" level that I'd been trying to establish, we both knew that it was something that happened quite a lot between us. Another quick chance for us to practice your kissing.

Then we moved apart slightly. And if I remember correctly, it was _very_ slight. We were both going to move further but then it hit hard. That sudden realisation that it hadn't been a friendly date. It had been a _proper_ date. And the realisation then hit harder when we realised that that was where we wanted to be. It took a while for either of us to speak, but eventually, you let out a long breath and broke into a shy smile. "Hey, this is gonna sound stupid now, but would you mind teaching me how to take things one step further please?"

I hadn't been planning on doing that sort of thing with you so soon, but I supposed that it was only normal for you to want to take things further when it felt natural to do so. After all, it wasn't as if you'd suddenly come out with it out of the blue. We'd had a date and this was part of the natural progression. We were into each other and although we'd not spoken about that specifically, we both knew that there was a little something between us. We both knew that we had feelings for each other, and we both knew that if we weren't a prostitute and a Prince, we would have certainly slept together by that point. Either as something casual or as boyfriends. I'm not sure where we would have been exactly, but I'm sure you'd agree that it would have gone further a lot quicker.

"Do you want to get a hotel room?" I asked on reflex, and you thought about it for a moment before shaking your head.  
"Lots of people have sex in hotel beds. I think I'd like one where probably fewer people have done it."

It was a bold move to say something like that, but it told me that you respected me and _knew_ me. You knew that I didn't invite clients into my home and that I was able to separate my work from my desires for other people. Perhaps I would bring a boyfriend home, but I seemed like I was happy with being single. It was a good call and I really appreciated how you called it like that.

So I apologised for the state that my house was in, seeing as I didn't realise that I'd be inviting you to come over, and then took you straight inside. Shoes were kicked off by the door and then we made our way straight through to the bedroom. I wasn't prepared to let you take in the sight of a working class home, especially since you knew how much money I earnt. I wasn't going to try to explain it all to you - about how I lived modestly because there was eventually going to be a point where I was too old to continue with my work, or I was going to get a boyfriend who demanded I stop, or I would want to start a family and it would be unfair to my child to know that their Papa did that sort of work. I needed security but you wouldn't have understood. Even after we'd spent so much time together, you wouldn't have understood. It's one of those things that you only truly know when you watch your parents struggling throughout your childhood.

It meant that we kept up the warmth, though. There was no space for judgement. Do you remember? You gazed at me with pure adoration in your eyes and then we kissed so gently, and then you were laid on my mattress - on the freshly-washed sheets that I'd changed because it was my day off and I had the time for it - and everything suddenly felt as if the stars and planets had aligned for us.

And just like that, you ruined my life.

Mr Kim, you made me fall even harder for you. Our romance was gentle but vocal. You eased every item of clothing off my body, then put my glasses to one side before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. I was slightly more rushed, making sure that I wasn't the only one who was completely exposed, but you seemed to like that. It hinted at enthusiasm, as far as you were concerned, and you wanted to feel like someone wanted you.

I did. I really did want you. This went past anything that I'd ever experienced before. I'd never wanted another man like that before. But I wanted you so badly, and so I worshipped every inch of your body as if you were the first and last man I would ever touch. At that moment, you were my King. I kissed parts of your body that I'd never kissed before, not even on other people. Your instep. The base of your spine. That chubby bit underneath your navel. Your ribs. Your shoulder blades. Under your arms. The back of your neck. Every place that my lips could reach. And you encouraged every little bit. Soaked it up. Told me what felt good and how to touch it to make you feel great.

And then, when the foreplay was over, we got to the main event. I remember every detail vividly: the way that I had to get you to relax with my fingers first, even though I'd never had to do that for anyone else. The way that your chest heaved and you let out puppy whines as you realised that you were enjoying the feeling. The way that I had to prop your pelvis up on two pillows and then hold your hands as I pushed into you, and the way that you immediately took in a sharp breath as your eyes snapped shut. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you told me, trying your hardest to be modest about your feelings. Of course, it probably _didn't_ hurt, since I'd spent so much time making sure that your body was relaxed enough to take something bigger than the single finger that you'd been working with for weeks. But that didn't mean that it wasn't uncomfortable, and it was easy enough to confuse the uncomfortable feeling of being stretched with a feeling of pain.

But you pushed through well. We did what we could to make it feel amazing. I let you take control pretty quickly, informing you that if you were on top, you would be able to control how deep it went and the angle. You were like a baby deer who was just trying to learn how to walk, but it was endearing. You were able to get into a good rhythm and enjoy yourself, and I was able to watch you and take in the image of how beautiful you looked.

There's something about that image that really sticks with me, even nowadays. Even after we've done everything together: the shower sex, the double penetration, the fetish play, the dirty things that a Prince certainly shouldn't have ever done. The image of you on top with your eyes closed is always the one I think of the most. The way that your nose twitched slightly in anticipation of more discomfort whenever you were preparing to change your speed or angle. The way that your hands pressed to my stomach and your nails eventually ended up scratching my skin. The way that you tilted your head back slightly as you got into it more, and the way I heard a proper moan passing your lips for the first time. The way that you realised you couldn't get the speed you wanted like that, and so you eventually asked me to help you.

We ended up staying in that position, remember? You enjoyed it so much that I didn't want to stop you in order to change position, and you made sure to tell me how much you were enjoying it as we continued working towards a mutual climax. Eventually, you grew cocky and decided that you didn't need to keep your hands on my stomach, so you ended up running one through your hair and pressing your other one to the hand I was resting on your right hip. So I playfully grabbed your ass and spread it as I encouraged you to sit back further, which got me closer to your sweet spot. It didn't quite hit, but it left your eyes rolling slightly as you told me that it felt good. A great sign that it was worth my efforts. Especially when your climax hit shortly afterwards and I finished inside of you, and then you told me that you couldn't have imagined it being that great to sleep with someone.

This was also the first time that one particular word passed your lips. "Love". You told me that you loved me and you wanted a future together; that you couldn't bear the thought of marrying someone else because you adored me, and you wanted us to have the whole kingdom at our fingertips. For me to become King Jeon Wonwoo and you to be King Kim Mingyu, and for us to have a litter of beautiful children who would call us Daddy and Papa respectively. And even though we both agreed that it could never happen, we both wanted it so badly that it hurt.

You stayed over that night and I couldn't bring myself to charge you for the time we spent together. For one night only, you were my lover and not my client. We were just two people that day, and we'd been unfortunate enough to fall into a fairytale romance where we could only be described as star-crossed lovers with no chance.


	6. Chapter 6

Do you remember how the ball went down?

You had invited me too and I'd initially rejected you. I didn't want to make it clear that we were seeing each other at that point, since it was going to be obvious if I was the only other man there, but you were certain that it was fine. You were going to invite a lot of other men too, because at least that way, it wasn't a case of all of the ladies trying to fight for your attention all night. From their perspective, it was great. If they fell for someone other than you, they would still perhaps get a husband out of it. From the men's perspectives, it was also great for that reason. And from your perspective, it was also good because it meant that we could sneak away together if you were in the mood for some privacy.

I informed you that it wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to sneak away with you in the middle of your own party, in which you were supposed to be finding a wife, so that we could have sex. I wasn't going to make it that clear that we were seeing each other, especially since we'd agreed that we were going to keep things casual. After all, you were supposed to be finding a wife, not a husband, and I'm still very certain that your family would have hated it if you'd married a prostitute. And as much as you tried to convince me that your family didn't know that I was a prostitute, I can now guarantee to you that they _would_ have known. One of your uncles and cousins had asked for my time - on separate occasions, of course - and that told me that they would mind a lot if it ended up being the case that I ended up marrying you. They wouldn't have hesitated to inform your parents. In fact, even if they did, I'm sure that others in the kingdom would hold back.

Anyway, you convinced me to go. I know you remember that much. The smug, shit-eating smirk on your face when I finally agreed told me that you were never going to forget that moment. In fact, you were probably going to brag about it for the rest of your life. I wanted nothing more than to crack my head against yours when you looked at me like that, but I supposed that perhaps it would upset you too much. I resisted the urge, but only just.

You insisted on taking me out to buy a fancy suit. "I want you to wear something that I'd recognise you in," you told me. I raised an eyebrow.  
"I'd rather you not recognise me, actually." And your face dropped immediately. You looked hurt and then confused, and then your expression settled on one that was almost childish in nature.  
"Why not?"  
"So that I can draw you in with how attractive I look and you're forced to second-guess whether it's me or not. This is a masked party, after all. It's all about sex appeal and mystery."

You looked as if I'd sucked all of the air from your lungs, and then your eyes filled with adoration. You liked the idea a lot, and so you waited outside whilst I picked something that I liked. Only when it was bagged up did you make a beeline through the store again so that you could pay for it for me, despite my insistence that I could pay for it myself.

Do you remember that suit? It was a charcoal grey suit with a half-buttoned shirt underneath and no tie. It was fitted well to my figure - luckily enough, since I didn't really have the time to get that sort of thing tailored - and it had some classy pinstripes running down the length. It wasn't something I would usually want to wear to this sort of event, but it was something that worked because it was so different. It gave a different sort of vibe and, when paired with a mask that was decorated to look like it had flames licking my cheekbones and ears, it drew you in right away.

When you were close to where I was standing, you hesitated for a little while. You didn't know whether you had it right or not. Of course, if you dipped in to flirt with me when I was someone else, you would have given the whole thing away and your female guests wouldn't have been happy. So you ended up waiting to talk to me. Your parents organised a line so that every guest - female or male - could greet you in person. That was a way of checking whether you'd managed to guess correctly, of course, and so I figured that I would give you that one if you were able to guess correctly. It wasn't going to be a difficult task as such, but I knew that you would be wary of all of the men who walked past you.

Of course, though, your deductive skills were impressive. You managed to stay formal with all of the other men who had arrived, giving them a quick handshake before allowing them to get started with their evenings, and then your formality dropped quite significantly when I was at the front of the queue.

"I thought it was you," you told me gently as you allowed me to shake your hand. Your fingers hesitated against mine for a moment and I felt a spark of electricity run through my body. "I don't know whether you're up for this at any point tonight, but I just want you to know that I can't think of anything that would make me happier than to take you to some secret part of the house and kiss you against a wall," you continued very softly, in hopes that no one would be able to hear. "If we keep our masks on, no one will be able to tell that it's us."

"I'm sure that people would recognise your suit and mask, Mingyu," I told you bluntly. You raised an eyebrow slightly and your lips parted, as if you were about to speak. "You're wearing a midnight blue suit and that's the kingdom's colour. Only you and your wife will be allowed to wear that colour for your formal events. See, even your parents aren't wearing those colours because it signifies that you're the star of the show. I'm sure that if someone saw a man in a midnight blue suit kissing another man, it would be seen as a scandal. Don't you think?"

You went to speak, but your advisor trotted over before you could say a word. "It's time to move on to the next person," he informed you. Of course, you gave a polite nod to me and I thanked you for your time before moving past you to greet your parents. It was only polite, I figured, and it served as an informal way of greeting the people who could have been my in-laws, had I chosen a more appropriate career path. They spoke to me briefly about how they'd never met me before but I seemed to know you quite well. I told them that I was one of your friends from your university days, but we hadn't really kept in touch until recently, when you had found out that my job included elements of marriage councilling and you were absolutely terrified about the prospect of having to get married so soon.

That was good enough for them, it seemed. They didn't seem all too suspicious and they allowed me to get on with my evening without much more than a glance in my direction. So I stayed out of the way as much as I could manage, occasionally socialising with other people in the room. The men who were trying to woo the ladies with some punch. Ladies who were already sick of their heels but were insistent that they were going to keep trying, since they wanted your attention so badly. Your relatives, who had turned up to provide some moral support whilst you were trying to find The One. And finally, a handsome man in a blue suit who insisted that he needed to dance with everyone in the room, even the men.

"It's not how it works," I insisted, but you flashed a devious smile.   
"Well, I've already danced with my friend Minghao, so it's only polite that I dance with you too. Show the ladies exactly what they're going to miss out on when I ask you to marry me." I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes as you grabbed for my wrist and took me to dance in the middle of a crowd. The heat immediately got to me and I could feel my heart rate rising as I tried so hard to avoid bumping into people, but then you insisted on pulling me closer so that we could chat at the same time. Which didn't help with my breathing, of course, but it meant that I didn't have to focus on other people for a little while. Instead, I could think about the way that we were moving together and we could leave it at just that.

"So," you started as you slowly spun me around on the spot. "What do you think about staying over for the night? I've been thinking about it a bit and I think it'll be easy enough to sneak you to my bedroom so that we can have some private time together, if you know what I mean." I knew what you meant, but it seemed like the most painfully unrealistic suggestion I'd heard in my entire life. Going back to your room for the night was probably one of the riskiest ideas that you could've ever come up with. Could you imagine it? We're in the middle of having sex, only for your nanny to come into your room with your usual bedtime snack and find me riding you like an animal in heat. Our breaths heating up the air between us and your hands exploring my naked body. It would lead the poor lady to have heart failure, I believe, and I couldn't put someone through that.

Even worse would be if your parents caught us doing that. It would have been game over for both of us. They would have had absolutely no mercy at all. And I know what you say about how they're very much in support of LGBT couples and all, but there's a difference between being in support of people who you have some distance with, and being in support of your son when you find him in bed with another man.

Do you remember how much you insisted, though? How you decided that we were going to go outside and get some air to escape the thick heat of mingling bodies, and then you suddenly came up with an idea for how we were going to end up being able to spend the night together. "I'm going to accidentally spill some wine on your suit and we'll have to go to my room to get you changed. And then, whilst my person dry-cleaner sorts the suit out for you, I'll try to help you find some new clothes. But none of it will fit because I have a bigger build than you, so we'll just have to try on every single suit."  
"And what you're saying is that we won't be trying on suits. We'll be having a romp inside the walk-in closet instead." You nodded. "The issue I have with this is that I just bought this suit today and I don't want it to get ruined already."

Just like you'd done earlier that evening, you pouted childishly at me. "Come on," I told you with the most scornful voice that I could manage. "Some of us don't waste money because we appreciate every little thing that we have. I understand that things are replaceable for you, but they're not quite like that for me. Besides..." I told you about the encounter that I'd had with your parents about us being long-lost university friends and your eyes lit up immediately.  
"So it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for us to have a sleepover or something. All of my other friends have been allowed to stay in the castle and if we pretend that you live far away, they should be able to make some arrangements for you. They're not horrible people, as much as they probably seem as if they're stern to you."

They did seem stern to me. I'll give you that much. I didn't really want to get onto their bad side, especially since I knew that the truth would inevitably end up coming out in the end. I knew that I was going to have to explain myself in the morning if I happened to see them again, and I was going to have to come up with more details about our relationship with each other. What degree I'd taken. Where I lived. How we'd met. Why you'd never spoken about me before. I started right away, in order to give myself the greatest chance of seeming as if I wasn't coming up with things on the spot. 

And so, we continued to wander around the gardens for a little while until the night's chill started to seep through our clothes. At that point, you reluctantly agreed to go back inside and you held my hand until we reached the door. "I hope you know that I'm serious about wanting to marry you, by the way," you told me as we finally parted. "If you're up for it, I need you to tell me as soon as possible. I can tell my parents tonight that I love you and want to marry you. I don't care."

That was the last I heard from you for a little while as you went to mingle. I didn't know how to take it. Of course, I knew that there was something between us and that there was an unofficial romance brewing in the sidelines, but I hadn't expected to hear you say something like that - something so sincere and serious - like that before we parted ways.

Mingyu, it stayed on my mind for the rest of the night. Every time I caught a glimpse of you, you looked happy with the girl that you were dancing with, but it wasn't the same sort of look that I saw when we were together. It was something completely different. An act, I suppose. I watched as you played the same game over and over, letting all of them believe that they had a chance to win your heart, and then the night eventually started to draw to a close. The ladies left one by one and I waited behind, since I knew that I didn't have any transportation to get me home. I'd walked all the way to the palace that evening, and so the plan was to walk all the way back.

In fact, I'd decided that it was a stupid idea to try to get your parents to let me stay over because I knew what it would inevitably mean. And so I tried to leave, only for you to stop me before I got to the door so that you could make a big scene. "It's too late for you to walk all the way to the taxi rank," you told me. "Can I get someone to take you home tonight?" Before I could answer, you turned to your parents with those puppy eyes that you'd tried on me a number of times. "Is there anyone who could take him home, please? He lives so far away but he doesn't have his own car or anything. I'm worried about him going home on his own in a taxi when he's already had so much to drink tonight and he's exhausted from all of the dancing."

Much to my surprise, your mother was actually the one to suggest that I stay the night. She said that it was better than sending one of your drivers out at that time of night, especially since you had spare beds and everything. You thanked her profusely for looking out for me and then offered to take me up to the guest room. Your maid helped you to set the room up, and then you insisted that we could spend some time catching up more before we went to bed. But then, of course, as soon as your maid was out of the room, your lips were on mine right away. You began to whisper sweet things against my mouth as you swore that you wanted nothing more than for us to be a couple for the rest of our lives, and then you suddenly stopped as you took my hands into yours. Your eyes bore holes into my face, but in a way that was as loving as it was intimidating.

"I mean it when I say it, Jeon Wonwoo," you announced as you slid off the bed and crouched in front of me. And then you began to search through your pockets until you found what I could only assume was your grandmother's promise ring - something that had been given to you along with your great-grandmother's engagement ring to pass on to your future wife. "I decided when I was dancing with those girls. I don't think I could spend the rest of my life with a woman when I have someone like you right here. If you agree to marry me, we can elope together and they can't do anything about it. We could sneak out of the window tonight and find someone on the other side of the kingdom to marry us on the spot. They wouldn't be able to catch us before we got there and then all we'd need to do was say a vow of commitment, exchange any ring we can find, and then seal it with a kiss. I need you to say 'yes'."


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sure you remember my response when you asked me to marry you.

Remember? I told you that it was unrealistic, and you immediately started fussing over that. You told me that it was only unrealistic because the law said we couldn't marry yet, but you were able to change that. After all, other men were allowed to marry, so you saw no reason why _we_ couldn't get married. You were basically one of the only people in the kingdom who could overrule that law. In fact, even if we ran away together and got married, who was going to tell the future King that he wasn't allowed to marry another man? Pretty much no one with any common sense, let's be honest. "Can you imagine it?" you asked me, trying your hardest to hide a smirk. "Could you imagine if we ran away together and asked someone to marry us and they told me that they couldn't because the law states that there can only be one King and one Queen at a time? It's a bullshit law anyway. It was only made so that two brothers couldn't be King at the same time because one of my great-great-great-great-great-great uncles killed his brother in order to be the only King."

But that wasn't the only issue and we both knew it. It wasn't about the fact that we were both men and that meant we couldn't marry. Well, okay, it was a part of it, but it wasn't the important part. The important part was that I was well-known around the area; that so many people knew I worked as a prostitute that it would hardly stay under the rug for long. And if we were to continue pretending that it wasn't the case and that the kingdom's future ruler wasn't a former prostitute, it would inevitably damage your family's reputation. Severely. So I wasn't willing to take that risk, even though you were clearly up for finding some sort of solution to the problem.

The thing is, though, it's not as easy as that. We both knew that it wasn't that easy, but it was how things were. You tried to make the example that older Kings wouldn't be prosecuted if their Queen was twenty years younger than him, so it wasn't an issue with us either. "You wouldn't condemn him because his wife used to be a child whilst he was an adult, so why would someone make a big deal out of us?" you asked. I pointed out that sex workers have a bad reputation and it would seem like poor judgement from your part, but you weren't having it. You wanted for us to marry still, and you made sure to make that clear as you toyed with the ring that you'd slipped onto my finger.

"What if we go outside and make our vows and sign an agreement? By law, we aren't married, but also we are. If that makes sense."  
"Mr Kim, you're absolutely ridiculous. What would happen when someone found out about that? A scandal? Your future wife would be absolutely heart-broken to find out that you did something like that, honestly. Sometimes, you really don't seem to think about the consequences of your actions."

And suddenly, you looked sad. Your eyes dropped to the floor and you curled your lips inwards so that you could chew on them both at the same time. Then you let out the biggest sigh, as if I was getting on your last nerve, before turning your attention back to where I was sitting. "Look," you started as you continued running your fingers over the ring you'd given me. "I'm in love with you. I don't know why or how it happened, but I fell for you pretty quickly, and I've never felt that way towards another person before in my life. I might not be able to marry you now, but I hope that we'll meet again in twenty or thirty years and you'll marry me as soon as I ask. I hope that we'll be able to elope together and it'll be the most beautiful romance and our kingdom will adore you."

Maybe I could let it slide. You looked hurt. And the last thing I ever wanted to see on your face was a look of hurt. So I kissed you softly on the lips and told you that perhaps at another time or in another life, we'll end up getting married and we could have a litter of beautiful children together. I've never really been one to want children, but I figured that if those children have you as a father, they'll be the most adorable dumbasses I'd ever meet in my entire life and I wouldn't be able to help loving them. Which is how I feel about you, for the record. You're also an adorable dumbass who I can't help loving. But keep that one to yourself, okay?

Anyway, that kiss was something that left your body radiating warmth. You suddenly began to glow as you pressed your face into the side of my neck, and then you whispered something that I didn't understand. "What was that?" I asked you. Your cheeks were bright red as you moved away slightly, but you seemed assured in your decision, whatever that happened to be.  
"I want to take you to my bedroom. Can I do that?"  
"Hm? What if your nanny or maid walks in to find us together? What will happen then?" You could tell I was teasing, but you still pouted over that comment.

"They'll just have to get over it. They know that I like men by now. They helped me to get posters of half-naked boys for my room when I was a teenager, so it's only natural that they would find me all over another man. Don't you think?" That was a story for another day, it seemed. And you must've told me that around six months after that day, when you were a little bit tipsy and willing to tell me everything about your life. You told me how they got some from the town and hid their identities as best as possible to ensure that you weren't forced out of the closet before you were ready to come out. I think it's precious that they would make you feel so safe like that, especially since that sort of thing isn't really in their job description as far as I'm aware.

It caused a sudden change in your attitude, though. You suddenly became incredibly touchy and you wanted to be as close as possible. I let you take complete control since that was how you seemed to want it. You started by grabbing my wrists quite loosely in your palms and then pressing me down onto the bed, and then you were on top of me right away. Then, as you shifted your weight on top of me - mid-kiss and all - the bed groaned underneath us and you shot up right away.

"Not in here. We'll go to my bedroom." You had me up again in an instant and I allowed you to drag me over to your bedroom. An unsuspecting member of staff passed us and you suddenly decided to declare to her that we were going to your room for a chat, and she should knock on the door if we were being too loud and needed to be quiet. Which I do think was a bit of a silly idea, but at least she seemed to be happy with that response, instead of expecting that things would end up developing between us at all. Not that she _would_ think that sort of thing unless she knew that there was something going on between us, but I suppose that it's always good to consider those sorts of things in case it does ever come up.

Now, here is where I'd insert our sex, if I felt that it would be fair to you to do so. I have a number of concerns with that, though. The first being that if your wife was to stumble upon these love letters, she would be faced with an uncomfortable description of the ways that you made love to me so gently that it would put your romance with her to shame. I'm sure that you wouldn't have ever been so romantic with a woman, so I'll spare her the details, should she ever find this. The second is that I feel it's a bit trashy to go into such intense detail when you know exactly what happened and I know exactly what happened, and this is something that we can keep between us. It's something you've surely thought about as you've touched yourself, so I'll let you remember it how you will.

Thirdly, I have to be honest with you, it wasn't the best sex we'd ever had. Nowhere near, and even some of the earlier times were a lot better. But I'll give you that it was romantic. You'd kissed me in places that hadn't been kissed since the last time I fell in love, and you were incredibly gentle throughout the experience. You were insistent on making every inch of our bodies connect in new ways, and I liked that. But you were quick to finish and you had to use one of your pills to keep things going, and it was pretty sloppy because you needed a hell of a lot of guidance on how to touch another man when you weren't on the bottom.

But saying that, it was still a very beautiful experience. It was still something that I remember fondly, and I over-romanticise it now that it has passed. I think that it was the starting point for our true romance, and I think that's pretty important. After all, we'd gradually been drifting further and further away from client and prostitute to lovers, and now you were whispering into my ear that I was your boyfriend. And I couldn't argue against that because I supposed that I _was_ your boyfriend. You were paying me solely because you wanted to stop me from having to work with other clients, but I wouldn't have really complained if you stopped giving me money.

We spent more time kissing and cuddling and watching movies together, and having dinner and going out together and sharing stories and _everything_ else that I could possibly think of, rather than having sex. And sure, we did sleep together at times, but that was no longer the focus of our meetings. And to start with, that was carefully masked under the idea that we were trying to get you used to how a real relationship would feel, but the truth of the matter was that we were dating each other, despite knowing that we didn't have a future. Go figure, I suppose.

The best part of that experience, though, was the fact that we ended up staying up all night. We cuddled naked on your bed, talking about everything that came to mind, and then you noticed me staring at the strip of light that hit the pillow right next to my face. "Oh," you said suddenly, "Do you want to watch the sun coming up? It's really beautiful on my balcony." So I agreed and we went out there - still without our clothes, since there was no one to see us like that, and we stood together with our hands on the rails and your chest pressed against my back.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" you whispered into my ear. Not as seductively as you would have liked it to have been, but only because I could sense the child-like excitement in your voice. I gave a hum in response. "It'll be ours in the future, you know. All ours. I can't wait for us to be able to stand here every morning with coffee in our hands, watching as the light pours over the kingdom. Do you think you'd like to do this every day for the rest of your life?" Then your lips grazed the back of my neck and I couldn't help but stumble with my breathing.  
"I think it would be nice to have this view, but it's pretty early. I think it'd be hard to get you up every morning, especially trying to talk over your snoring."

And in an instant, you were tickling me and asking what I meant. "I don't snore that loudly," you insisted as your fingers dug into my sides. "And besides, I thought you said I'm handsome when I'm asleep. Do you take that back now?" I was trying my hardest not to laugh, since I knew that it would only encourage you to do your worst, but the squirming was never going to stop. Not then, not now.

Then the tickling turned back to kisses as you took in the scent of my hair and skin. Your arms wrapped around my waist and you pressed your body closer before giving a long sigh. "The kitchen staff should be preparing breakfast now. Do you want me to get them to bring something up for us to eat? Perhaps the best rice and meat that we can provide for you?" I wanted to protest, but my stomach silenced it before the words came out. I hadn't really eaten much the day before, especially since your ball was a pretty big deal for both of us. So I gave a nod and you called down to the kitchen and asked for a simple breakfast to come to your room as early as possible, and then you suggested that perhaps we take a shower and get dressed. After all, the last thing your staff needed was to see us in bed together as they brought the food to your room.

So that was that. We got ready and ate breakfast together, and then you informed your parents that you were personally going to escort me home, since we were going to have a look at some wedding rings on the way there. You already had a future Queen in mind, since there were only a few women who didn't seem to want to marry you for the status or money, and your parents seemed to be pleased by that news. And so, off we went.

"You have someone in mind?" I eventually asked as we got further away from the palace. "Which one? Can you describe her to me?" You shrugged right away, then let out an awkward laugh.  
"I don't know who I'm going to pick. I just figured that perhaps they would be happier thinking that I didn't need any help with choosing someone from the ball. I think I'll just go with whoever sends the first letter to thank me for the invitation, and then we'll just make things work out until I'm eventually able to marry you instead. Maybe I'll wait until we have children and she falls in love with someone who isn't royal. You know that these things happen sometimes."

I raised an eyebrow in response and asked you whether you thought that this was a fairytale or something. You shrugged and told me that it felt like it at times. "But you need to understand that things will always work out in the end. If we love each other and we're meant to be together, we'll end up being together in the future. That's just how things are. Fate is a real thing and I think it'll work in our favour when I eventually end up divorcing my wife and searching for true love."

You know, it's been a while and I still don't fully understand that. You said that usually, the King's first wife is someone he's forced to marry and then he ends up picking someone he loves, but I'm certain that there have only been maybe one or two other Kings who have ended up taking a second wife in our kingdom. One of whom lost his first wife to a blood disorder shortly after their first child was born. But I suppose that this _is_ a bit of a fairytale in a way, so I can't blame you for feeling like your first partner is going to be someone you're fond of but don't love. I can't really blame you at all.

The only thing I can say, though, is that I don't know how to feel about your faithfulness to that idea. I've seen you two together and you do seem to be in love with each other. You can't make that sort of look up, and it's not something that many people can do without at least some romantic feelings for the other person. I think perhaps you're in love with her now, even though you told me that you would never end up loving a woman. Maybe she's your one exception to the rule, since it's hard to live with someone and sleep with them and have children with them without falling in love with them. Of course, I'm not here to make theories about your life, though, but I'm not so sure that we'll ever get to that point that you're describing - the point where we end up finding each other again and all of the romance comes flooding back and we fall hopelessly in love all over again and then we marry by the end of the year.

I don't know. It just doesn't seem likely to happen anymore, Mr Kim. But I suppose that that's fine because it's what I said I wanted in the first place. I said I didn't want to marry you because it would ruin your reputation, and I suppose I still stand by that now.


	8. Chapter 8

Mr Kim, my issue right now is the fact that I know with every letter I send you and every wait for your reply - which never comes, by the way - I feel worse and worse about that decision. I wish I could've changed my mind and run away with you, and I wish I was able to call you my husband now.

I hope you remember how much I adored you, even though I tried my hardest to hide it. I hope you remember how much it absolutely crushed my soul when you made your announcement about that girl being your future Queen. And the pain is still there now, to some degree.

I should feel happy that you found someone and she was willing to allow you to explore yourself a tiny bit (but within reason, of course, so you weren't really allowed to explore all that much). I should feel happy that you seem to love her, since you seemed to want that from the start. You were so desperate to appear like any other royal - _normal,_ out of a lack of better words for what you were probably expecting - that perhaps you _did_ end up falling in love with her. I should also feel happy that you picked someone so beautiful who could provide you with a beautiful life and beautiful children. But I'm not happy, even now. I'm miserable about it.

She's your typical Korean beauty. Straight black hair that reaches her mid-back and falls over her shoulders when she's trying to hide the slight sideburns around her ears. They're not that noticeable but she insists that it's a big deal. It's something that everyone has and I'm sure someone has told her this a number of times.

Her figure is pretty. Relatively flat with a slight curve to her hips and chest. It makes her look delicate and gentle, especially with her other little features to make her look that little bit sweeter. Almond-shaped nails that are trimmed, shaped and painted perfectly. Hands that are small and soft, after years of using flower-scented hand creams. Pretty little ears that are neither pinned back too far nor stick out too much. Perfect eyebrows that are coloured in ever-so-slightly so that they aren't so pale against her skin. Eyes with natural double-eyelids that make her look like some sort of forest animal from a mystical book about the friendship between young girls and forest animals.

Her lips are the perfect shape. Her nose is the perfect shape. Her skin is natural and she doesn't do anything to lighten it, and she doesn't even have a mark on her cheeks from acne or freckles or moles. Everything about her is perfect, even her humble and gentle personality.

You don't seem to care.

Do you remember what you said to me after a few weeks of being involved with her, when you had to announce your engagement publicly to the kingdom? As you insisted that we go to my place and spend the evening "catching up"? You told me that you didn't think she was all that great. That you could see the appeal because she was like a sort of forest maiden from stories and that was really cute, but you simply didn't want her all that much. You thought that she would be better off with someone else but you knew from your friends that she was the sort of girl that no one dated because they were scared that they weren't good enough for her so you were going to make her into your wife so that she didn't feel as if she wasn't good enough for anyone. After all, you didn't think it was fair for a girl like her to feel as if she was a leftover woman.

You know, it also hurt a bit to find out that you chose her based on those sorts of things instead of actually loving her. But I felt for her, strangely - not you. She could fall in love with you and have so many children with you and think that you have the perfect marriage but deep down, it's a one-way thing and she's not going to end up finding true love with you.

Of course, I was also bothered about the fact that I wanted you but you were going to get married. And I know, you gave me the chance to agree to marry you and we could have had everything we could possibly want, but I still had that childish edge that interfered with my rational beliefs that we wouldn't work. So as I was telling myself that there was no way we could be together and it would end up ruining your life if we were to run away and get married to each other, I also didn't think that you would actually end up finding someone and proposing to her so soon, leaving us in a position where I was essentially your paramour for the few months leading up to your wedding day.

And my morals instantly told me that it was time to call it quits after that and allow you to do your thing, but there was something deep inside that was still feeling selfish. So I ended up going all out when we were in bed together that day so that it felt as if I was back to being a sex worker and not a man who had fallen hopelessly for a Prince. I made sure to give you everything that you wanted and tried to put you off giving things back because that implied that there was a mutual relationship between us and as far as I was concerned, it was already malpractice that I was interested in a client.

Then again, that sort of thing is much harder than it looks.

I suppose you didn't realise how much it made me want to cry when you said - not asked - that you were going to stay over for the night because you knew that your parents would ask you about the girl and you hadn't really spoken to her enough to answer questions without making something up as you went along. So I told you that I could sleep somewhere else if you wanted, since I didn't want to taint your engagement too much, and you proceeded to give a confused laugh as you cuddled against my back. I think you thought that perhaps I was joking with you but you didn't question it at all. And actually, I appreciated it a lot. I couldn't answer your questions. So I simply closed my eyes and pretended to sleep until I heard your voice speaking softly against the side of my neck.

"Wonu," you breathed, "Are you still awake?" My heart began to race, but I didn't say a word. I hoped that you wouldn't be able to feel my body vibrating with the sudden and unreasonable fear that came along when you called out that pet name so softly. "I guess not." You took in a deep breath before letting it out in a long, defeated sigh. "I guess that's for the best. I don't know whether I want you to hear this or not. You see, I think this whole thing is going to be a mistake. Marrying her, that is. I think it's going to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever done in my life. Because I know that you're the only person I can fall in love with like this. You're the only person I can look at and think, shit, I'd move oceans for you, even if I had to do it one cup at a time. And I'm scared of being in love with you, but I know that no other person would be good enough for me. Not when you were the first person to really make my heart ache with love and desire."

I wanted to cry when I heard that. I can't even deny the fact. It was so pure and sweet and honest, and it made me feel awful for ever considering not treating you like a romantic partner. Because let's face it, that's what you were to me. You were essentially my boyfriend, and she was the other person in this situation. We came first. She just wasn't aware of that. Neither was anyone else, for that matter, but that was how we wanted to keep things. It was for the best, after all. The last thing you really needed was to have to explain yourself to everyone _and_ come out at the same time _and_ introduce your boyfriend as a prostitute who you had been paying to stay exclusive to you.

It would just be one mess after another, and it would have probably ended up causing you a lot of problems, I believe. It wasn't something that you really wanted to face right before you got married and took over the throne and so I felt it would have been absolutely awful to put you in a position where you felt as if you had to put that information out there for the world to know. It already felt bad enough to know that I'd essentially been doing just that for a little while before I realised the errors of my ways, but there was nothing I could do about that part. It was already said and done and you seemed not to notice as much as you could've done, so it was a simple change to make in order to go back to normal.

So that's what I did. I decided that we were going to go back to being boyfriends and that was just how things would be. When you were actually married, we would have to break up, but it was fine up until that point. After all, you needed that support at that point in your life, and so it would have been unfair to deny you of that. Between your parents causing problems for you and there being a woman who was convinced that you were going to have a beautiful life together, you didn't really need a nuisance who was distancing himself out of spite, too.

I turned around, still trying my hardest to act as if I was asleep, and then promptly cuddled against your chest. You stopped talking for a second, your breathing growing particularly shallow and then I felt your muscles tense slightly as you tried to check whether I was asleep or not. I kept my mouth and eyes shut, and you eventually let out another long breath as you kissed my hair. "It's gonna sound really stupid, I think, but you're the only person in the world that I trust completely. Even more than my friends. I told them about us the other day and they didn't seem to understand why I would choose to date someone like you. Which put things into perspective for me that little bit more." Another deep breath. I could feel your heart beating that little bit faster and harder, and then you let out a shaky breath.

"They know you and your history and I think that's terrifying. If my friends know what you do for work as soon as I mention your name, I guess other people will know too. Just like you said they would. And you know, I don't care so much for what other people think of me, but I'm concerned that they wouldn't be happy with you as our King and I wouldn't want to make you feel as if you're below anyone because of your work. It's just ridiculous to think that people grow so cold when they find out their friend has fallen in love with a sex worker. Yet..." You stopped for a minute, and then your voice grew colder as you proceeded to tell me that sex workers needed more love because most people are sure to know someone who has sold themselves at least once. You knew that your friends' little sister got paid for oral sex when she was in university, and you knew that your other friend's girlfriend had received a lump sum in exchange for a threesome before. It didn't necessarily mean that it was an ongoing thing, but it neither meant that sex workers were dirty nor did it mean that they were incapable of experiencing love.

It was something that you thought was silly - the assumption that sex workers were void of feelings of love. There was a false idea that sex came alongside romantic feelings, you informed me, and that meant that people couldn't believe a person would have sex with someone they didn't love. But only in the case of someone who was being paid. The client didn't feel love for the worker and that was an accepted fact. That didn't mean that they couldn't feel love for anyone else, though, and often they had other relationships or were fulfilling their desire for sex as they waited for their ideal partner to become available. But for the worker themselves, taking money in exchange for sex was often seen as a way of filling the emotional gap left by an inability to love another person for just a little while.

You said that that attitude upset you a lot because you knew of a lot of people who were married to ex-sex workers who were simply not clocked because they sold themselves outside of our kingdom. You also knew that we were capable of separating our feelings because you could tell that it scared me when I first started to fall in love with you, and I wouldn't really respond in such a way if I felt like that towards every client who showed me a little bit of kindness.

And seeing as my ideas of kindness had changed over the course of our relationship, you were adamant that our relationship was something very real. I went from thanking you with sexuality to thanking you with other things - snacks, kisses, flowers and the sorts - and you could really see the happiness that came along with that sort of thing, and I think that was what made you feel that it was working out well between us. And as you described those little changes in our relationship, I felt more and more secure in the idea that we were going to make things work together.

You went to sleep shortly afterwards, and then we both stayed cuddled like that until the morning. You woke up to the sound of the neighbour's dogs barking, remember, and you were a little bit grouchy for a few minutes. But then as soon as I kissed you full on the lips, you seemed to feel a lot better and promptly offered up a smile as you asked what we were going to do together.

So we did as follows: we had breakfast together, and then took a shower. Although I hadn't been anticipating it, we ended up having a quick round in the shower, and that felt absolutely amazing as you made a point of whispering in my ear that you couldn't think of a better way to start the day. Then we went to a huge department store together so that we could get some things for my - perhaps _our_ \- house. I think we pretty much lived together by that point and I probably would've asked you to move in if it hadn't been for the fact that you were part of the royal family and had to live in the palace for the rest of your life, but it didn't mean that you weren't able to lay claim to my space and call it your own too.

Besides, most of the things we bought were for us as a couple. Scented candles for the main room. Some towels for you so that you didn't have to keep using my favourite towel. New bedsheets because the amount of sex and sweating was demanding that the bedsheets were changed more often and I didn't always have time to hang things outside. A soap dispenser, some matching house and bathroom slippers for both of us, a welcome mat to make the house seem more homely, and some more cooking equipment so that we would be able to cook together whenever you came to visit for a few days at a time.

Then we went for dinner and a walk around the park nearest to the border of the kingdom, and we eventually finished it off with you kissing me on the lips as we parted at the front door of our house, shortly after you'd helped me to make the place look presentable again.

Do you remember how it suddenly felt as if our love was fresh and new again? It was something you pointed out to me at that point, and it was something that I absolutely agreed with at the time. It really did feel like we were new lovers and we were starting our life together, and suddenly the thoughts of your fiancee were completely off my mind as I completely changed my mind on the situation we had at hand. And I'm glad that I did because our romance blossomed yet again after that day.

I wish things could go back to how they were back then, if I'm completely honest. I know that it's impossible and completely unrealistic, but I really enjoyed the time we spent together, and I only hoped that I could turn back the time and change my entire life so that we would be able to be together for the rest of our lives.


	9. Chapter 9

Do you remember what the next step in our relationship was, after you'd sorted out your engagement and made sure that everyone knew about it?

Of course you remember. I'm almost certain that you still have all of the images on your phone. The ones you swore you didn't save. The ones that you insisted we send on that app that destroyed all of the evidence after ten seconds, but then gradually started to send via text message.

It was risky. You knew that. I knew that. Everyone knew that. It wasn't really a secret, was it? That sort of thing ended up destroying the careers of at least a handful of celebrities every year. Heck, even the future Queen of England had been caught in some compromising positions, thanks to some tech-savvy hackers and photographers who had followed her to a secluded place to watch her take her clothes off. And you know that even if they hadn't, someone would have created a fake video where they edited her face onto another model's body to make it seem as if the viewer was having an intense romp with her.

You know full well that if you were out, people would be making those edits of you, too. If women were as creepy as men, you'd find websites dedicated to photos that people had edited to make it look like you were naked. Thankfully, most of the lust of women in and around our kingdom was well-hidden and contained. The most you would hear of it was a story typed up on someone's laptop, locked behind password protections and hidden within several folders, describing you undressing them and unravelling them; spreading them for the world to see and encouraging the inevitable writhing as you overpowered them. Their fantasies would have you cool and mature. You would be the sort of man who would kiss their necks and tell them that they were beautiful, and sex wouldn't be a laughing matter at all. It would be fiery and aggressive, but in a way that hurt their pride more than their bodies. They wouldn't want to admit that they had those sorts of thoughts and desires; the sorts that only fantasies could fulfil entirely.

But that was what it was. They didn't know you like I did. I don't think anyone does. The humour behind the romance. The laughing as I tell you that my boxers are caught on my leg and you reach for the same wrong leg each time. The way that sometimes you pause and I wait in anticipation, only for you to sneeze all over your hands - and then my insistence that you have to go and wash your hands before you can continue. The way that you would fall asleep face-down on the pillow and terrify me, but not as much as when you were face-up and fell asleep with your eyes _open_.

Anyway, I'm getting distracted. Back to the main point again.

You didn't really strike me as the sort of person who would want naked photos of your lover. Of course, a lot of people wouldn't really reject it if they thought that their partner was attractive - which many people do - but it's not always something that everyone really enjoys. For a lot of people, it's more about the aesthetic, not the fact that they find their partner attractive. Particularly for heterosexual women, many people take the time to take photos that make their bodies look like something that they would like to see too. Something that's pleasing to the eye and shows enough skin but not too much. Something that makes them feel confident and makes them realise fully that they're an attractive person. And that's what I thought you would like, rather than the actual nudity itself.

So when I proposed that we give it a try - since it would certainly help you in the future if your passion with your wife was to die down - I didn't really expect your eyes to light up in the way that they did. I didn't expect you to be so utterly excited by the prospect that you suggested starting right away. "Relax, Mr. Kim," I told you cooly, "There's plenty of time. Wait for the right moment. Wait for that time when you're feeling sexy and you want to share that with me."

You felt sexy around an hour later and sent me something that could only be described as a sad-looking worm on that ten-second photo app.

"Are you serious?" I asked you right away. "Do you think that's sexy?"  
"I thought you liked it," you told me. Like a puppy coming home with its tail between its legs. I felt bad for you.  
"Come over and I'll help you to take some photos, okay? You need to learn quickly. I can't afford to give you time to figure this out yourself. You're getting married soon."

You didn't want the reminder about that, but you _did_ want to come over to my place. Go figure, I suppose. So that's what you did. You came straight over to my apartment and I took you through to my bedroom so that I could teach you about the basics of photography and making your photos look aesthetically pleasing.

First step was a decent filter. Even if your photo was complete garbage, the right filter would certainly help to make it that bit more pleasing to the eye. Nothing too extreme, but something to soften the image up a bit. Warm colours - not black and white, since that was quickly becoming tacky - and certainly not something that would whitewash your skin too much. Perhaps it was just my opinion with that one, but I feel that the honey undertones of your skin looks beautiful in photos, and so you shouldn't try to tone that down. Instead, make it that bit more clear to the person you're showing. Perhaps a Crema, Amaro, Mayfair or Valencia would be good for making sure that the shadows aren't too strong and your edges are clear but softer, and a little bit more saturation would go a long way in making sure that the warm tones of your skin were clear.

Next, we had to sort out your composition. First of all, if you're going to send a photo of your junk in your hand, it makes for one of the most repulsive images that someone is going to see. You have to start small. A flash of skin. Some clothes left on. Your shirt on, covering what you have between your thighs. Shirtless, with something to lead the eyes down south. In your boxers, making sure to highlight the curves of your body. Secondly, you needed to work on what side to shoot. Straight down wasn't going to cut it. You needed to put the camera in a position that made your body look good; that made your stomach look toned and muscles look as big as they were in real life, and your thighs to look thick. They were some of your best features and you needed to flaunt that as much as possible. And everything else? If you put it into one third of the photo, it would ensure that it would look pleasing. A third with boxers and two thirds of bare flesh? Attractive. Two thirds filled with your body and one third with nothing? Beautiful.

The final point I was going to give you there was that you needed to keep your socks out of the photo. I swore to you on the spot that if I saw your socks in _any_ of the racy photos that you were going to send me, it would absolutely guarantee that you weren't going to get me into bed. "But some socks are sexy," you insisted with a pout. I scowled at you.  
"Unless you're going to wear thigh-high socks or lace stockings, your socks aren't allowed to be in the photo. That's final."

You didn't argue after that. You weren't going to wear those sorts of socks and we both knew it.

"You've given me a lot of rules," you said blandly after I asked you to run me through all of the information that I'd given you. And of course I had. There was a lot for you to fix. And I hadn't even begun to tell you about the other aspects, such as bath pictures, making sure that your nipples were hard before you took the photo, ensuring that you sorted out your lighting, cleaning off your mirror, and avoiding putting your face in the photos. Some of those things were common sense, I guessed, and the others were simply going to overwhelm you. I made sure to point that out without telling you those rules. You pouted again. "If you know so much about taking naked photos, take one for me now. I'll go into the main room, and I want you to catch my attention with one of the photos you take."

Challenge accepted. As soon as you were in the other room, I made my way into the bathroom and wet myself in the shower. Hair? Damp. Body hair? Perfectly trimmed and made to look beautiful. I used a bit of coconut oil on my skin before getting into the shower, just so that my body would have that sexy sheen and the water droplets would stay in place. Then I made my way back to the bedroom, adjusted the bedsheets so that there were no creases, laid down one of my towels, positioned myself like a god, wrapped a towel around my body in a way that hid the pointy bones of my pelvis and more intimate areas, and then shifted it ever so slightly to give you a hint of what was underneath. Then I took the photo, added the Valencia filter that I'd recommended, and promptly sent you a copy to that app.

And you were in the bedroom next to me before I'd even had the chance to dry my skin properly. Your eyes were hungry and desperate, and you were all over me as soon as I was ready to have you. It had created magic - which, I believe, was partially to do with the fact that it was the first naked photo that had been sent with you in mind - and now you wanted nothing more than to soak up the beauty that had caused that sort of response. Just as I said it would.

After that, you let me take a few photos for you, then you promised that you would practice at home for me. You wanted the next one to be good enough to sweep me off my feet and make me desire you. You wanted me to fall in love with you all over again; to lust over your body and want to roll into bed with you. You wanted me to find every inch of your body beautiful again, as if it was the first time I was seeing you naked or something, and you wanted to spark that magic of our first time all over again.

It was an unrealistic expectation, but I gave you that much. You needed it. It was something that you really craved, and I couldn't bring myself to burst your bubble when you were trying so hard to give me everything that _you_ wanted from that sort of image. And I have to admit, I really appreciated it. I appreciated your enthusiasm and the way that you truly tried your hardest, and the way that you took a thousand photos when you were finally in a sexy mood again, just so that you would be able to get one that made you feel proud when you sent it to me.

Sure, it wasn't the bed photo I'd ever seen in my life, but it was still a lot better than the first one. You'd put in a lot of effort and I could see that. You had a photo of your navel and some satin boxers, and your hand was slightly covering the bulge in said boxers. It was almost a shy sort of image. It showed off your vulnerabilities and desires in a way that was very thoughtful, and it gave me an insight into your feelings and thoughts. I'd never really expected to see your body looking so insecure like that, but the slight air of confidence in your abilities to make me proud made my stomach flip when I saw it. And you can bet that I had to call you over right away so that we would be able to act upon your desires after you'd sent that photo to me.

It was the start of something big. You know that, right?

It turned into something that happened every few days. If we were in the mood for something sexy, we could send each other those sorts of photos along with a caption about exactly what we wanted to do, and it would end up getting the other person's attention right away. It had a special way of bringing us together and keeping the other person on our minds. And then, more and more, the photos began to take erotic turns. With the photography tips I'd given still in mind, you sent me a photo where you had absolutely nothing on at all - something that was risky and daring, and absolutely got me aroused right away.

That image took my breath away. It was the first one that you sent via text, and I still have it saved now. It serves as a milestone in our relationship, and a milestone in your progress. I hope it doesn't sound creepy or weird. I know that you saved most of mine, other than the ones that made me feel insecure when I saw them on your phone at a later point in time.

And although we aren't speaking so much nowadays, it's the photo that stays in my mind when I think about your progression. It was a mark for your increased confidence in yourself, your identity, your self-worth and your abilities. It was a mark for us as a couple - making everything feel as if we were just a normal couple who had fallen in love and were still very much in that honeymoon stage of our romance, prior to settling down and developing a serious relationship. And I liked that. For a while, we weren't a prostitute and a prince. We were two people who were in love.

Do you remember how long it continued? The exchanges of naked photos?

I'm sure you do, but I'll remind you anyway. Just in case you've managed to convince yourself that our relationship was a mere fling.

I'll break away from our timeline for a moment to remind you that the last photos we sent were on your wedding day. Early enough to be considered the previous day, admittedly, but past midnight nonetheless.

We were in your bedroom, since you had invited me over to help you prepare yourself for the wedding, and we'd ended up taking a naked photo together. In front of the mirror in your bathroom. We were both completely naked, without even a scrap of fabric to preserve our dignity. The top half of the image showed our lips together - an awkward, wet kiss that we'd shared on our way out of the shower, and a reference to the first image that I'd sent you - but the rest of our faces remained hidden. My chest was pressed against your chest; my pelvis against yours; a hand in your hand and the other on your shoulder. You had the camera in your other hand, and I was surprised that you'd managed to keep it so steady when I'd kissed you so firmly. There was a perfect slither of body showing, which allowed a hint of genital to slip through. A trail of body hair between the thighs; a nod towards the muscles that you possessed, which weren't entirely visible in the photo. To show it would be to draw attention to them, especially since you had been working out hard around that point in time, and hiding them simply made the image look that little bit softer and more romantic.

The way that our bodies were positioned left more to be desired. Specifically, the act that inevitably followed after that photo was taken. It was something that we'd been anticipating - as if we hadn't already had a quick romp in the shower too - and it was something that would certainly remind both of us of the times we'd shared together.

You saved that image into a locked note. An app that allowed you to keep secret files. You swore that you weren't ever going to delete that photo, so long as I agreed that you could keep it for as long as you wanted, and you were going to use it to remember the times that we'd had together. And I do the same, actually. My copy isn't under lock and key, but I use it to remember you whenever I miss you. It was the last photo we'd taken together, since we knew that your parents couldn't allow me to turn up to your actual wedding day. 

But we all knew why that was. So I suppose that was for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who has made a return!
> 
> Real talk, though, I feel really bad about the fact that I've disappeared for almost a month, and I aim to write as much as I can as soon as my appraisal is over. At the moment, I'm being a huge Worry Guts over my promotion and I've done so many unnecessary and extra things, so I think I need to calm down :')
> 
> But because of all of this, I've not had any time to myself, like all of my free time has been spent working because I know that I only have three weeks to complete all of this work in, plus all of my research for the meeting with my boss afterwards ahhhhhhhhhhh
> 
> Adult things are tough. Stay young, kids, and keep your eyes peeled for when my life finally becomes less hectic!!
> 
> Love as always, Camel


	10. Chapter 10

Do you remember why I wasn't invited to your wedding in the end, by the way?

I'm pretty sure you do, since you wanted me there and all. I guess by "not invited", I really mean that I wasn't welcome. You'd certainly invited me, but I knew that your parents didn't want me there. It could have ended up messy, and we both knew that. We _all_ knew that, for that matter. Other than your wife, who was still blissfully unaware the whole time. But that was how we wanted it to be. I think we can all agree that the last thing we needed was for her to find out about us on the day of your wedding.

I suppose you probably remember how it ended up like that, too. I'm going to remind you, nonetheless, but I would be more surprised if you'd forgotten that day than if you'd remembered every single last detail of it.

Your wedding was fast-approaching by that point. And you were getting anxious. You knew there was nothing you could do to stop it. Someone had arranged the entire thing for you. The bouquets were made up, the decoration was ready, and the cake was already designed, with all of the ingredients already bought in advance. Her parents had paid for someone to write very touching personal vows for both of you, although that was supposed to stay a secret so that people thought you'd really clicked more than you actually had, and half of the kingdom had bought you both wedding gifts. Everything from the stuff to help you start your life together to things to help you to prepare for your first child. You had everything that you could possibly need. You couldn't back out after that. So you tried to push forward. You tried your hardest to hide your discomfort from me, but it was increasingly obvious every time we met. We screwed like rabbits whenever you came to me, and you hardly spoke a word the whole time. It wasn't obvious whether it was guilt-driven or whether you were simply overthinking things, but I don't really know whether it matters so much which it is.

You also spent a lot more time kissing me. And not just regular kisses. It gave a sense that you were losing something. Your arms stayed wrapped tight around me the whole time, and your eyes would stay closed for a little longer than one would expect if you were happy and comfortable. I could see right through it, of course. You knew that our time was coming to an end, and so you were trying your hardest to grip onto those last little threads so that you didn't have those negative feelings anymore. And you know what? For someone who was only on hire to you, that was the most difficult time of my entire life. I knew that you weren't mine to have, right from the first time we'd spoken. I knew that when I first kissed you, I was supposed to be a temporary placeholder for the wife you'd take and love. I knew that you were never going to be mine and that I had no place to fall in love with you. But then, of course, I did. You made every moment feel special and you wanted to get to know me - as a person and not a prostitute - and I fell madly in love with you right there and then. And I still love you, Mr. Kim. I couldn't bear the thought of it ending, and it still crushes my soul to think about it now.

My way of dealing with it back then was to pretend that it wasn't happening. I pretended that we didn't truly have anything going between us and that I was simply the "other man" in your marriage. I pretended that I was making something up between us and that the truth of the matter was that I was still just a prostitute to you, but you were bored and lonely and I was the only person who you could come to without causing some tension in your kingdom. And it hurt to think of it that way when I knew that you loved me as much as I loved you, but it was just how things had to be. The last thing I wanted to do was to turn up to your wedding and ruin it because I wanted to be with you, even though you had made it explicitly clear that you were going to be marrying someone else and that would be the end of our fling together. (Even though that was my fault for not accepting your marriage proposal, of course, but we'll leave that out for the sake of this part of our story. You know why I made that decision, I know why I made that decision, and that's what matters.)

Strangely, though, the thing that had set us both off the most was not the news of the wedding hall being prepared, or the pictures of your future wife shopping around for things for your new home together, or any of the journalists who would try to follow you around to find out more about your plans for your new life together with your bride. It was actually your bachelor party.

You and four of your friends were due to go out drinking and partying together just outside of our kingdom - where they had a reputation for being indifferent to the rulers of other kingdoms in the country - and that was supposed to mark the end of your time as an unmarried man. Your friends had planned it very specifically to give you a break away from your life as a royal for just a few hours, and they knew full well that you were going to be able to let go because you weren't going to be bothered by anyone else whilst you were out. The journalists from your kingdom were asked to give you a break for the day so that you were able to enjoy your last few days before you started training to become the new King, and so you could finally be like any other man just before his wedding day. 

You were excited, of course, but also incredibly nervous. You didn't know what to do with yourself now that it was _fact_ that you'd be marrying in three days, but you weren't exactly fond of those thoughts and the last thing you really wanted to do was to try to enjoy yourself despite it. I ended up having to push you to go along - simply because of those nerves, since I knew that you really _were_ excited about it too - so then you eventually gave in and told your friends that you were going to get ready for a great night together.

Saying that, though, you'd spent the morning of the party at my place. You wanted to see me one last time before you went off with your friends, since you knew that you would have to start sorting out all of the official details in the palace as soon as the party finished. It wasn't going to be the last time we saw each other, of course, but it was a sign that our time was limited and you didn't really like that. Neither of us liked that. So we made the most of it. We cuddled up close and watched a romantic movie, and it somehow ended with us slow-dancing in the kitchen together whilst I made us some lunch. And when we finished dancing, you pressed your face into the side of my neck and told me that you loved me more than you could describe in words. In our next life, you said, we would find each other and fall in love instantly, and then we would run away together and it would be absolutely beautiful. You told me that we were bound together and that if I passed away before you did, the grief of losing me would surely kill you too. Your voice cracked slightly on the last word and I considered bringing it up and asking you if you were okay, but the damp patch that started to glue my shirt to my skin suggested otherwise, and so I simply pulled you closer and stroked your hair as I hummed the song we'd been dancing to.

That sadness remained as an undertone for the rest of our time together, though, and it was only made worse by the inevitable rain that served as a form of pathetic fallacy. You kissed me goodbye on the doorstep then made your way home so that you could prepare for the night. And then I began to do anything that I could think of to keep my hands and mind busy so that I didn't end up bothering you. I baked a cake, using anything that I could find in my pantry and the nearby shops. I knitted and played video games and went for a walk, and then I settled uncomfortably early, since I had exhausted everything else that I could think to do. That settling involved making comfort food for dinner and then sitting in front of the television, where I watched a graphic horror program so that I didn't have to think about love and how unfair it was to be in love with the one person in the world who was completely and utterly unobtainable.

And that had me thinking.

Perhaps it was my career choice that had brought us together, but it was also what made it impossible for us to be together. And in general, it meant that I didn't really have any solid relationships with other people, either. My friends had often turned away when they realised that I was a sex worker, and I often had issues where my partners saw the prostitute side to me, rather than the person-side. It meant that sex was very much what you would expect from someone who was at work, but the emotional side was often lacking. And often, they wouldn't really want me to do my job either. The thought of me going to work and sleeping with someone else made them uncomfortable, even though they knew about it from the start. It was as if they couldn't separate the idea of someone having sex with people as part of their job - where they weren't in love with their clients and had a strictly professional relationship - and having sex with people because they were interested. And I do think that it partially stems from the sexual awakening that our generation had, where we're more than happy to sleep with a selection of people with and without feelings towards them, with no worry about the shame that used to come along with having multiple sexual partners, but that's a conversation for another time. Just let it be known that I don't think those people are shameful, but I _am_ disappointed that none of my past boyfriends have been able to separate those things in their minds.

Well, as you can see, I struggled not to think about romance and love that night. You were expecting it, though, right You can't just ignore it when those sorts of things happen in your life. To pretend that it isn't happening is to use avoidance as a defense mechanism, and that'll surely come back to bite you in the ass pretty damn quickly. And anyway, even if I wanted to avoid it, you weren't going to let that happen.

You'd been practicing taking naked photos, remember? You sent me a particularly well-structured one for a guy who was so drunk he couldn't text me properly. Your angles were good, I got a flash of your stomach along the way, and you'd used your thumb to pull the foreskin back enough to genuinely get me a bit excited. But then you'd followed it with a message that looked as if you were fighting to stay awake, which informed me that you "llokocr" me, and explained that you "chjsld nevbr maryyey snyfiene rlse". You continued by telling me that you would come to my place for cuddles and maybe some gentle loving, but you were certain that you'd "ooukr on [my] ducxk if we fo at it tikk riubg".

At that point, I politely told you to shut the fuck up and go back to your friends because you weren't making any sense at all. I could infer what you were talking about, but that didn't matter. The important thing was that you needed to stop with the rubbish and go back to your party because sending me drunk texts like that wasn't going to help either of us. It was _never_ going to help us, frankly. Not when we were that close to parting. I made sure to be particularly harsh to you for that reason specifically. So off you went, I assume, and I got back to the bath that I'd been running before you started messaging me.

Then, at around eleven o'clock, just as I was heading to bed, my phone began to buzz again. Your name illuminated the entire screen and it continued to buzz the whole time that I stared at it. And call it what you will - intuition or a plain old selfish need to hear your voice again - but I felt that it was going to be something important if you were going to call me whilst you were with your friends. Texting was one thing but after I'd _specificallyher_. I don't care if you've spent the last few months with your mouth _surgically attached_ to his dick: it's not important right now. Do you understand?" I told him that I was, in fact, that person he was looking for, and he gave a hum down the phone. "Good, this is incredibly important. Gyu went to the toilet around twenty minutes ago and he's not back. He left his phone on the table so we weren't that worried, but we've just checked and he's not there anymore. He's not dancing, he's not at the bar, and he's not outside. The lat thing he said to us was that he'd realised his mistake and he couldn't marry his fiance because he'd in love with you. And in the history of Gyu, this has only ever meant one of two things. Either he'd on his way to your place, or his going somewhere with some significance to your relationship."

I wanted to argue that those weren't the only possible places - that you could've gone to your fiancee's place or back home - but I think we both knew that that wasn't the case. You were going somewhere that made you happy, and those places wouldn't make the cut. So I ended up agreeing with him and then we set out to search for you. I gave Seungcheol a list of the places that were significant to us as I pulled on some clean clothes and shoes and then started out of my front door so that I could search the area nearest to where I lived. The plan was to get them started so they could send their taxis there, and then switch to a group call so that we were all in the loop.

Which was all well and good until I turned to lock my front door, then swung back around with enough force to thwack into something soft and warm. It made a soft "oof" noise when we made contact and I flinched as a watery apology left my lips. Then I took a step back and took in the sight of the person, only to realise that it was you.

You tightly wrapped your arms around me as soon as it registered that I was the person you were looking for, and then you began to litter my face in kisses. You told me that you loved me a thousand times and asked if you could come inside, and so I agreed right away before sending you to the main room whilst I made us drinks. And whilst I was there, I made sure to tell your friends that I'd found you and that I'd keep you at my place for the night to make sure that you didn't end up getting in trouble. I could smell the alcohol on you, mixed with the scent of cigarettes, and I knew that it wasn't a good sign. Seungcheol thanked me for the help, although he also made sure to get my address so that he could drop in later. Then the conversation was over and I took you the drink before taking a seat next to you.

"Your friends were pretty worried that you left your phone behind and left, you know," I told you softly. "Why didn't you tell them that you were coming over?" You ignored the question and instead shuffled closer so that we were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.  
"I love you, Woo," you said too loudly. It was hardly coherent either, though it was exactly what I expected. I sighed, trying my hardest not to sound too harsh or irritated.  
"Why did you come all the way over here to see me when you're supposed to be celebrating, though?"

"I want you," you said clearly. I couldn't even mistake it for anything else. You knew what you wanted and that was that.  
"You want me?"  
"I want you to run away with me and get married. I bought us some wedding rings on the way over here. I think I can legally make it official. If a King says that he's married to someone, I think it's safe to say that no one would question it. Don't you think?" I'm not sure whether it was a blessing or a curse that you were able to speak clearly. I almost wish it had been as nonsensical as your typing. But all I could do was roll my eyes at you.  
"Maybe tomorrow."  
"No, you won't do it tomorrow either. And then I'll only have one more day to convince you before I get married to that _hag_."

That last sentence sucked my soul out through my eyeballs. I wasn't expecting it, and it served as a sort of one-hit KO that left me unable to think of anything else to say afterward. Did I address it? Did I ignore it? The implications of either choice weren't amazing, but I couldn't just sit there in silence. So I simply let out an exasperated noise and pressed my face into my hands. "Mr. Kim, that's so rude. You're marrying this woman soon."  
"Shut up, I don't care," you replied. You were giving me that smile that suggested you knew exactly what you said and meant it, and it took every bit of energy not to smile back at you. That would encourage the behaviour and I couldn't do that.

Then you leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was a bit too rough, but it was clear that you didn't have a sense of your strength when you were that intoxicated. You pressed a hand to the back of my head to keep me there whilst you tried to figure that pressure out, and I wasn't planning on complaining until I felt your other hand start to wander. At that point, I grabbed your wrist firmly and put your hand back in your own lap. At that point, you pulled away and scowled. "I want it."  
"Not tonight," I said firmly. It was not a decision that would budge and I needed you to know that.  
"Why?"  
"You're drunk and I'm not. That's not right."  
"You know I'd do it drunk or sober," you said. I shook my head. The sigh that followed suggested that you were upset. "How about I blow you, then?"  
"Still not okay." You crossed your arms over your chest and gave the angriest scowl that you could muster.

"I'm the future King and I say I want to have sex with you," you said.  
"Do you want me to record that and send it to your future Queen?" You looked me dead in the eyes and dared me to do it. The sexual tension between us was suddenly incredible, and much stronger than it had been for a long time. Since we'd started bedding each other, we'd never really had that level of tension since we'd rise to meet each other's needs as soon as they came up. But this was something very different. I almost wanted to give in to your demands, since it was so incredibly strong that it almost knocked the wind out of me, but then it felt so _wrong_ that every inch of my body itched with a need to reject your advances again.

So I did what any other man in my position would do. I took you to the bedroom, laid you down, and then told you that I needed some time to prepare. I told you to relax and I'd be in to have my way with you when I was ready. And that satisfied you enough to keep you on the bed, giving me the chance to take things incredibly slowly downstairs whilst I prepared a hot drink in a flask and got some pain meds, and by the time I'd made it back to the bedroom, you were sound asleep and I could put it there without risking you coming onto me. I wrote a little note telling you that I'd be on the sofa if you needed me, and I placed a bucket next to the side of the bed in case you felt sick, then called Seungcheol and told him that if he wanted to come over, I was happy to talk to him now that you were safely in bed.

I'll leave it there for this letter, since I'm conscious that it's getting long and I'm pouring a million feelings out there, but I hope this has jogged a few memories. And remember, I'd love to hear from you again, should you have the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my GOSH it's been ages since I last posted!! I'm so sorry, life has gotten in the way lately, and I've spent my time just daydreaming about it instead of actually writing. We're currently eight people short at work, and that plus my recent promotion has left me without a single day off work since September 1st. It's a bit of a tough time right now but a) I'm only here for four more months now b) we're getting more people now that National Holiday Week is coming to an end and c) I'll be back to two days off per week soon enough. Hopefully that means this'll be completed before the end of the year, though I am very sorry about the time it's taken so far!!
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and please enjoy!!
> 
> Love as always, Camel <3


End file.
